CSI Domino
by SpangleBangle
Summary: Three men, entangled in a web of violence, love and shame. Now it's just two - but who killed That Man? Contains Clashshipping and antiDarkshipping, rated for violence and lemon/lime in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Hello again~ Sorry for the disappearance, you crazy people who apparently like my stuff, I was majorly blocked even though I spent pretty much every waking moment of a week without lappy planning this ^^' I will get around to finishing Burning Symbols at some point this millenium, promise...  
>I'm not going to post this as a crossover (is there even a CSI section on here?) because I'm not going to use any named characters, just generic peoples. Though if you're as much of a fan of the original Vegas series as I am, you might spot a cameo or two shuuuush :)<br>I am determined that there will be no YGOTAS references in here. To that end, I'm calling Yami Marik 'Marik' instead of Melvin (going along with the Malik=hikari, Marik=yami thing). Spot the pun on That Man's last name. Phonetics go~ *Neeeerd* ...I think I just got Piccolo'd O_OU Okay, on with the fic~

Contains A HELLUVA LOT OF ANGST AND EMOTIONAL PAIN. Uber-warning for you. Clashshipping, non-con [and definitely not hatefuck] Darkshipping.  
>In this chapter: Contains Brief violence, fluffy hinted Clashshipping, much angst. Actually this chapter is kinda tame compared to stuff I've written before, and what I've got planned for the next chapters *epic foreshadowing*<br>All characters (c) Kazuki Takahashi  
>CSI (c) Antony E Zuiker.<p>

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

The dull yet persistent sound of gun shots. Then silence, broken only by the sound of muffled sobbing. Warm arms around him, hands pressing at the sore and weeping wounds with gentle care. Closing his eyes, choosing to look away from That Man lying sprawled on the floor, redness leaking from him. Everything seemed dull but for the redness and the tan arms around him, holding him safe and secure and trying to staunch the redness on his chest, arms, legs. No use, it kept flowing.  
>No use, Marik. Just let it flow, he thought. He tried to pay attention as he dimly heard Marik trying to talk to him. Something about pain? No, there wasn't really any pain. He didn't know how he should feel.<br>"…hear me, Yami? Yami, can you hear me?"  
>Drifting in and out of awareness, barely feeling anything except the occasional breath of wind on his bare skin and the comforting warmth of Marik's arms around him. It was a long time before he realised the source of the sobbing was his own throat. He tried to stop himself from crying but it tore from him, uncontrollable and separate from his mind, disconnected as that seemed to be anyway. He felt Marik rocking him like a baby, stroking his hair gently back from his face. So slowly Yami didn't even notice it at first, the pain started washing over him in slow waves, each more intense and painful than the last. It swept through his body. Stinging at the wounds that wept red tears. A dull pounding at his wrists and a tingling in his fingertips. An aggravating twinge in his right eye and temple, his eye refusing to open from the sore puffy swelling that grew with every passing minute. And a wrenching, tearing spiking of agony that ripped through his insides whenever he moved his hips or legs. So he didn't move. Though his throat and chest hurt from the wracking, convulsive sobs that he couldn't stop.<br>Footsteps, many of them, pounding through the door. Bang, bang, bang. Yami flinched and huddled closer into Marik's arms, unsure why the sound made the bile rise in his throat and fear to clutch him icy-cold. Brash, commanding voices ringing through the relative silence. Their voices grated on his ears and he couldn't make sense of their words, only the tone. He gave up on trying to understand and clung limpet-like to Marik, trusting him to know what was happening. Marik cradled him gently, as if he were fragile.  
>Marik was torn from him, pulled away by the booted men. He reached out with a wordless cry and recoiled as pain flashed through him, scabs cracking and redness flowing afresh. The spike of pain bore through him and he screamed, curling up on his side, tears stinging the cuts on his cheeks he hadn't even registered before. Strangers surrounding him, putting blankets and bandages around him, trying to get him to sit up. He looked for Marik, seeing he was being held on the other side of the room.<br>"Yami?" Marik was calling for him. "Yami, they're going to take care of you, stop fighting them."  
>Yami looked at the kind-faced people around him blankly. He hadn't realised he'd been fighting them. They mumbled meaningless phrases and gently pulled him to sitting, patting his hand when he cried out with the pain of the spike jabbing through him again.<br>"It hurts," he whispered, the first coherent words in a long time. "Marik, it _hurts_…"  
>"I know, I know," Marik said soothingly, straining slightly against his captors who refused to let the tall man go to him. "They're going to help with the pain, Yami, don't worry. That's what they're here for."<br>They tried to get him to stand and he screamed, blackness surrounding him as he fell.

Marik sat at a boring steel table, opposite a severe-looking and weary woman. He glanced up at the clock on the wall and saw it was that odd time between late night and early morning when no one really wanted to be awake. Night shift was a bitch, it seemed.  
>"Could you confirm that you waive the right to an attorney?" She asked, putting a voice recorder on the table between them. Marik stated again that he had no need of a lawyer, fidgeting anxiously and wondering how Yami was. They had taken him to the hospital and Marik wanted to be at his side; Yami had been almost out of it, earlier, barely able to make sense of what was happening around him. Marik knew he was in agony and would be confused, his hard-won confidence torn into shreds thinner than before.<br>The woman opened a paper folder and took out some photos. She pushed one over to him. It showed a mortician's photograph of That Man, eyes closed in seeming peace. Marik felt his lip curling up in distaste.  
>"What was your relationship to the victim?" she asked, watching him closely.<br>"No relationship," Marik said coolly, pushing the photo back towards her. "Tonight was the first time I'd ever met him."  
>She absorbed that, nodding slightly to herself before pushing another photo towards him. It was a side shot of Yami's face, showing the black eye and bruised temple Marik had feared would develop. Leaning in a bit closer, Marik saw that Yami's eyes were red from crying; he looked weary and frightened, biting his lip in what Marik knew was shame and misery. Marik felt his heart twist. "What about him?" She asked softly.<br>Marik reached out and with a fingertip stroked the side of Yami's face in the photograph, wishing he was there with him. When he spoke, his voice was soft and sad. "Yami," he sighed. "I guess the simplest way to describe it would be to say – er – romantic." He glanced up at the woman hesitantly, expecting to see judgement. Her face was blank, however, inviting him to say more. He looked back down at the photo. "How is he?"  
>"He's in the hospital. They're treating his injuries."<br>Neither said anything for a few minutes. The woman watched as Marik fidgeted between looking at the photo of Yami's beaten face and scanning the room.  
>Eventually the woman broke the silence. "I'd like you to tell me what happened earlier this evening."<br>"Would you now," Marik muttered. "Fine. Yami called me saying that he was in trouble, and I ran to him."  
>"Can you verify that?"<br>"Sure. My phone has a chat log, you know. I left it at Yami's place, I'm sure your people can find it. Or you could ask my friend Duke, who was there when Yami called me."  
>The woman scribbled in her notepad. "We'll be checking on that. So what happened, from your perspective, after Yami called you?"<br>Marik's face went devoid of all expression. "That Man," He said in a toneless voice that nonetheless managed to convey a bitter hatred, glancing at the picture of the dead man, "Was hurting Yami."  
>"And what did you do?" The woman asked in a quietly intense voice.<br>"I punched him in the face to get him off Yami," Marik said, fists bunching. His knuckles started weeping where the already-cracked skin was stretched again. "After that I don't recall. I remember holding Yami, and then the cops coming in and putting him through so much pain that he blacked out."  
>"Do you own a gun, Marik?" The woman asked. Marik shook his head. "The victim was shot a total of five times, three in the chest, one in the head and one in the groin. Does Yami own a gun?"<br>Marik almost smiled at the thought of Yami buying a gun. "No."  
>"So where did the gun come from?" The woman asked, lifting her eyebrows. She obviously suspected he was lying.<br>"That Man must have brought it. Why don't you check that out?"  
>"We will."<br>"Are you charging me with anything?" Marik asked, shifting anxiously towards the door.  
>"Not as of now," the woman said. "You may leave, but don't leave town."<br>"I wouldn't dream of it," Marik said with a perfectly serious expression. "Yami needs me."  
>"Just out of interest," the woman said casually as Marik put his hand on the doorknob, "Do you even know the victim's name?"<br>"No. And he was in no way the victim here, in any sense of the word," Marik said tightly, thinking of Yami's shattered heart.  
>The woman lifted her eyebrows again. "He was Bakura Shhadenfroid."<br>Marik looked at her blankly. "And now, he is dead."

Yami stared at the floor, hands clenched tightly together. He didn't look at the woman on the other side of the table; he was sitting sideways in the chair, facing the door. He wouldn't be sitting upright without the drugs they'd given him, and he could feel them starting to fade.  
>"What's your name?" The woman said gently, putting a voice recorder on the table. Yami glanced at her quickly then away, feet tapping nervously on the floor.<br>"Yami Motou," he answered softly, looking around. He wondered where Marik was, he needed Marik with him. Now more than ever, and where was he?  
>"How old are you, Yami?"<br>"Twenty two," he muttered, biting his lip as dull aches rippled through his hips and back. "Th-the meds are wearing off…"  
>"I'll be quick," she said in a tone that she had probably practised on small kittens. Yami gritted his teeth, biting back a sour comment. He did not appreciate being treated like a child. She pushed a photo towards him. "What was your relationship with this man?"<br>Yami took one look and, with a jerky motion, shoved the photo away, closing his eyes. Trembles controlled his limbs and he hugged himself tightly, wishing harder than ever that Marik was with him. "No relationship. I met him twice."  
>The woman raised an eyebrow sceptically. "That's it? With a reaction that pronounced? What happened last night, Yami?"<br>"Where's Marik? Can I see him?"  
>"Not yet," the woman said gently.<br>"I need him," Yami mumbled, rocking slightly. He hated how weak he was – yet again, it was like the past year had been in his imagination. He was back in that place again, and he needed Marik to get him out.  
>"Just answer my questions as best you can and you can go," the woman said, leaning forwards. "What happened last night?"<br>Yami shook his head vehemently, hugging his knees to his chest, feet on the rungs of the chair legs. "I don't want…" He didn't want to look at his memories of the night before. He had carefully blocked them since, trying to hold himself together. He didn't want to get trapped in those memories, not like the last time.  
>"I know it's hard," the woman said, looking slightly bored. "Attacks can be traumatic, I know. Just take me through it once, only once."<br>Yami drew in a shaky breath, gripping his knees tight. "H-He found me again. He tried – he _did_ – oh gods he _did_…" Yami whimpered, burying his face in his knees.  
>"Again?" The woman said sharply. Yami nodded miserably. "What happened the first time you met him?"<br>Tears leaked from his lids, burning the barely-scabbed cuts on his cheeks, marks from That Man. He flung the old memories away, having dwelt in them for so long he was reluctant to revisit them yet again. He had thought he was over it, that he could move past it with Marik's help – they had tried, and it had been so good… Yami had felt his confidence returning, his fear abating… and then last night, the fragile illusion had been shattered into tiny pieces for him to try and reassemble. But he needed Marik to help him, only Marik knew the exact shape the pieces made. Despite him, as they always did, the memories squatted hideously in his mind, transporting him back. The words spilled out of him in a breathless rush.  
>"He raped me."<br>If Yami had looked up, he would have seen the shock on her face. But he didn't. His cheeks hot with shame and damp with tears, he hid his face. He didn't see the disbelief turn to sympathy and pity. He didn't see her bite her lip as she watched him tremble and struggle to escape the memories that had haunted him for so long. He didn't see her struggle to say something, anything, to either comfort him or question him. Eventually, she simply said, "Tell me everything, from the start."

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><p>In the next few chapters there will be flashbacks. Hey, it's based around the CSI concept. CSI is flashback city~ Anyhoo, see you in the next chapter...? *hopeful*<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

More~

Contains: Violence/bondage, Sadism/bloodlust, flashbacks, non-con Darkshipping, graphic rape scene (lemon). Yeah. Also fluffy Clashshipping. :)

Passages in _italics_ show flashbacks.

All characters (c) Kazuki Takahashi  
>CSI (c) Antony E Zuiker<p>

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

"Tell me everything, from the start."  
>Yami shuddered, shaking his head and rocking back and forth. The memories of that dark night beckoned him, called him to wallow in them once more. He didn't want to give in – he had spent a year trapped in their quagmire and he had only just managed to scramble out. He had been pushed back in from the brink of salvation and refused to open his eyes to see where he had landed. But she was with the police, he had to tell her… Taking a deep breath and willing some of Marik's strength into himself, Yami started talking, telling her as the memories swam before his eyes, as vivid as the day they had happened.<br>_He carefully applied the hairgel, spiking his hair up with extra attention. He wanted to look good for tonight – it would be the first time he had met up with Marik after their separation a few months before. They had decided to see if that old flame was still there, and Yami was just a bit nervous. He hadn't seen Marik since the break-up, and worried that he wouldn't be able to please him like he had used to be able to do. He worried that he looked weird, too different. He worried that he had put on weight, though he could by no means be called overweight. Even if he wasn't sure if he wanted to date Marik again, he wanted to make a good impression. With a sour expression, he slipped his glasses case into his pocket. With all the studying he'd been doing recently for his course, his eyesight was deteriorating. He wondered if it would startle Marik.  
><em>_Waving to his flatmates, saying he might not make it back until late and grinning at their supportive comments, Yami headed out of the door and started to walk briskly towards the centre of Domino, to the restaurant where he would be meeting Marik. He smiled to himself – to the restaurant where they'd had their first date, months and months ago. It wasn't far and soon he was there, and he could see Marik through the window, sitting at a table – their table. Where that date had been. Yami grinned widely, feeling his self-conscious doubts fade.  
><em>_It seemed Marik wanted to find that flame as much if not more than Yami did. Yami admired him through the window as he approached; Marik looked as deadly-handsome as Yami remembered, with a few new tattoos of course. You couldn't work in a tattoo parlour and not get some fresh ink every now and then. He was dressed in tight jeans and a loose shirt that nonetheless showed off his powerful frame, blonde hair styled up just as always. Yami checked his own appearance: hair dyed and spiked, shirt and leather trousers tight and dark, his bracelets all present and correct. He fiddled with his fringe in the reflection of a closed shop window, taking a deep breath.  
><em>Yami faltered in his narrative, the dark memories creeping closer to tarnish those few sparks of light.  
>"Go on," the woman softly said, leaning forwards intently. "What happened?"<br>Yami squeezed his already-closed eyes, trying to hide in the darkness behind his lids. He held tightly to his legs, regular shivers shaking his limbs like a leaf in the storm. He drew in another breath, knowing that the sooner he finished his account the sooner she would let him see Marik. And gods how he needed Marik right now… "I never met Marik inside the restaurant," he whispered, the memories crowding in on him.  
><em>Just as he was about to walk inside, a cold hand wrapped itself vice-like around his wrist. Yami was jerked around and pulled by the owner of the hand, a tall pale-haired man in a dark coat, with burning brown eyes. Yami protested and tried to pull away but the sudden touch of cold metal against his ribs stilled him. The man spoke not a word, but the threat was implicit in every strand of his strange hair and every shadow that played over his features.<br>_"_if you want money, just take it," Yami said unsteadily, raising his palms non-threateningly. "I don't want any t-trouble."  
><em>_The man looked about them, scanning the dark and near-deserted street for witnesses. No one looked their way. The man tightened his grip on Yami's wrist, the tip of the knife flicking up to tilt Yami's chin this way and that, letting the dim lamplight dapple Yami's features. Yami could do nothing but comply, not wanting to provoke this strange man with a knife at his throat and a crushing grip on his wrist.  
><em>"_I always take what I want," the man said in a low, husky voice, ever so slightly accented. "And you are coming with me."  
><em>_Yami swallowed hard, knowing danger signs when he saw them. At that point he wasn't sure if the man meant to kill him or rape him or what, but he knew it couldn't be good. As the man tugged him briskly down dark, seedy alleyways, into the heaving bowels of Domino, Yami looked frantically around for someone – anyone – to help him. But precious few saw them, and even fewer cared. This was a dark place, a place that could not be found by daylight, Yami was sure. A place where the wicked could play as they desired.  
><em>"What happened, Yami?" The woman asked softly, breaking him out of his reverie. Yami realised he must have gotten lost in his memories and stopped talking. "Where did he take you? I know it's hard, but if you tell me—"  
>"Then what?" Yami snapped, surprising himself, leaning towards her with his elbows braced on the table. "You'll make everything all better? You'll wave a magic wand, revive that bastard and haul him to court? Pah."<br>She was silent for a moment, and didn't really seem surprised by his reaction. "Of course I can't do that. But we can try and see if there were any others, and if they need help." Her voice was perfectly calm and reasonable, not in the least perturbed. Yami recalled Marik speaking to him in that way in the raw aftermath of That Night, and how it had soothed him to hear something so steady and unflappable in the midst of his torment. It soothed him now, and he leaned back in his chair, coming out of the unconscious aggressive pose. He hugged himself tightly, the fire of his anger burning away to smoulders that let him see the shadows of his past circling around him, like carrion wolves in the night. She made a 'carry on' motion with one hand and a sympathetic look.  
>"He led me through the streets, I couldn't tell you where he took me, exactly. It was just so dark and I was scared…"<br>_The door was slammed shut behind him and the man led Yami through dark unlit rooms in the house until they reached what Yami presumed to be the bedroom. Yami now had few doubts about what was going to happen and his breathing was erratic, heart jumping and skipping in fear. A cold sweat bathed his skin and made him tremble. He would have struggled, but the man's grip on the knife was steady and sure, unfazed and cool. More than anything, Yami wanted to get out of here alive.  
><em>_The man produced a length of leather thong from a pocket in his swishy black coat and quickly wound it around Yami's wrists, binding them so tightly his fingertips turned purple, in front of his chest. Yami was too scared to resist in that vital moment when the knife was out of the man's hand. It was snatched up again quickly, though, and the moment was lost.  
><em>"_Tell me your name." The man commanded, brooking no opposition as he pushed a wide-eyed Yami hard down onto the bed and onto his back, tying the long end of the cord binding Yami's wrists to the headboard.  
><em>"_Y-Yami," he replied fearfully, tugging at the bonds to no avail. The knife pressed just slightly under his jaw and he stilled, feeling the skin break in a thin, stinging line. He hissed slightly at the pain and was almost revolted to see the look of taut anticipation on the man's face. "Why are you doing this?" Yami whispered, going completely rigid as the man stroked the knife's tip down Yami's neck to catch and effortlessly shear through his shirt as if it were made of nothing more substantial than mist. A thin line of weeping red was left trailing in its wake, spilling slowly down Yami's sides. "Wh-Who are you?"  
><em>"_I am the man of your nightmares," he replied, reaching into his pocket and bringing out, of all things, a mobile phone. Yami was surprised to say the least – he had been expecting something more… kinked, he supposed. There was an automated shutter-click noise and a red light started slowly pulsing on the phone. Yami shuddered. The man was _filming_this.  
><em>"_Your name," he demanded again, bringing the knife up to trace a design just under Yami's left eye, camera sweeping over his body.  
><em>"_Yami," he breathed in panic, watching the blade nervously as sweat broke out afresh over his skin. "Please, let me go…"  
><em>_The man laughed cruelly, knife slashing.  
><em>Yami stopped abruptly in his story, tracing a thin white line under his left eye, the mark of That Night. It was completely silent in the interrogation room; even the policemen seemed engrossed in his tale. He clamped his lips shut, unable to tell them of what had happened in all its hideous detail, though he could not escape the memories.  
><em>The knife slashing over and over into his neck, face, arms, chest, abdomen. Shearing through his leather trousers and through his underwear, scoring his skin in its path with red taint. His cries of pain and terror ignored, smothered by the man's bloodied palm or his dark laughter. Trying to kick at his torturer as his legs were splayed wide, stretching his muscles beyond any pain threshold. The punishment that followed, and the ugly scar of a letter B carved into his hip, marking him forever. The horrifying sensation as he was penetrated and thrust into with no mercy, no pleasure. Feeling the stranger's hard erection tearing his insides apart with every stab, blood pooling around him. Pain shrieking up his back as the man thrust harder and harder, slamming his body into the rock-hard mattress. Banging his head on the bedpost from the sheer force of his abuse and feeling dizzy, knowing all the while his tormentor was lapping it up and saving it for future perusal on his phone. Screaming in pain and gripping the bonds around his wrists, hoping to slicken them with the blood flowing from his everywhere enough to escape… but growing weaker and weaker as the man forced himself harder and closer and tighter inside Yami, widening as needed with brute force. Yami could feel the man being more and more turned on with each dose of pain he delivered direct into Yami's body.<br>_Yami shook his head briskly, digging his fingers into his knees to focus on the present. "He cut and raped me." He said shortly, hoping beyond hope she wouldn't make him tell the exact details. No one but Yami knew all the details, not even Marik. Marik knew most of it, sure, but not all.  
><em>Sobbing and trying to turn his face away, twitching and tense against the pain, ignoring the blinking red light as much as he could. Screaming louder than ever before, screaming for help. And then <em>bang bang bang bangbangbangbaaang! _Marik exploding into the room, punching the man square in the face and knocking him out, pulling him out of Yami to sprawl on the floor. The glint in Marik's eye as he spat on the unconscious figure of the half-naked rapist. The way his whole bearing softened and became gentler than Yami had ever seen when Marik turned to help him__. Marik untying him and washing clean his wounds, lending him his jacket to drive them back to Marik's flat he shared with Otogi above the tattoo parlour. Having to pull over half way because Yami started crying and needed comforting.  
><em>"_You can stay here as long as you like, Yami," Marik said, handing him some pyjamas and a spare toothbrush. They were sat on Marik's bed, though Yami seemed uncomfortable and still in pain; Marik had given him painkillers, but any more and he might overdose.  
><em>_Yami was unable to do anything but weep and tremble , lost in his world of imaginings. Warm arms winding around him and gently pulling him down to pillow his head on the older man's chest. "Sleep, Yami. Sleep of rest."_

Much later, the CSIs met in their usual café.  
>"I don't know," one said sceptically, running a hand through his short afro absent-mindedly. "He could be lying to plead self-defence."<br>The woman shook her head. "You weren't there when he was talking."  
>"So let me get this straight," their boss said, frowning slightly. "We have two suspects, each of whom has their own motive for killing our victim."<br>"Correct."  
>"We have no murder weapon, no evidence to conclusively link it to either of their stories?"<br>"Er… correct," the CSIs answered briefly.  
>"Well then," the boss said and retreated to his pickled-foetus-filled study. "Find evidence, and go where it leads you."<br>The CSIs looked at each other and groaned. More grunt work.

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><p>Here's a special mention of some truly cool beans~<br>Crazycatkin for being my unofficial Beta and for Clashshipping as obsessively as I do 3  
>Yaminisu and Coolaloo for being such lovely reviewers, and my first reviewers! Thank you so much for your support, hopefully see you in the next chapter :)<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

More~

_WARNING This contains smut._ What? It balances out the angst. Honest. And I've only just realised that I've been switching between Duke/Otogi. SORRY~ From now on, he'll be Otogi.  
>Umm... Contains: Aforementioned Clashshipping smut, Ushio cameo...<p>

Passages in _italics_ indicate flashbacks. And it's a long one. ...Don't you dare say 'that's what she said'. This is yaoi. You must say, 'that's what _he_ said'. Joking, guys. :)

All YGO characters (c) Kazuhi Takahashi  
>CSI (c) Antony E Zuiker<p>

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

Yami was escorted out of the interrogation rooms by a silent policeman with markedly huge eyebrows and a bad attitude. He didn't seem to feel for Yami's pain and made him walk quickly, steering him by the shoulder. He didn't seem to care about the cuts under Yami's clothes that made it extremely painful for him to move; he was even more cut up that he had been over a year ago, after That Time.  
>The policeman's rough handling paled into insignificance when Yami saw who was waiting for him, head swishing this way and that as he scanned for a glimpse of Yami's distinctive hair. Marik spotted him and gave a relieved smile, bounding over. Yami fell into his arms, clinging tightly and burying his face in Marik's chest. Marik held him tightly but gently, knowing how badly injured he was. After all, he had tried to stop the wounds from bleeding not five minutes after they had been made. He rested his chin on the top of Yami's head and lifted a hand to brush gently at the back of Yami's neck, feeling him tremble and relax.<br>"Let's go home, Yami," Marik said softly. "We're attracting quite a bit of notice."  
>Yami flinched just a bit. "I don't want to go b-back to my rooms, not after this…"<br>"No, of course not," Marik said quickly, leading him by the hand out of the police station and into the early-morning air. "Back to mine, I meant. I asked the investigator and she said that, well, your house is being searched through for evidence and all that sort of thing, and you and your flatmates will have to find 'alternative accommodation'." Marik snorted, letting Yami pull his arm around his waist as they walked. "They weren't offering any suggestions. I said you could come with me, they want to keep tabs on us."  
>Yami walked close in to Marik, eyes downcast and manner twitchy. He didn't appear to have heard what Marik was saying, and Marik was about to ask him if there was anything he wanted to do, when Yami spoke in a quiet, doom-filled voice.<br>"They're going to tell the others, aren't they?"  
>Marik squeezed him around the waist, helping him cross the road. "Yes," he said gently.<br>"After keeping it secret for a year," Yami muttered. "I never wanted them to find out about That Man."  
>"I know, I know," Marik said. "But it'll be okay, Yami. They won't reject you or anything just because you were – ah – That Man assaulted you. They'll understand, they're good people."<br>Yami made a noncommittal noise in his throat and didn't reply as Marik led him through the slowly-filling streets as the city of Domino woke up and began its daily routine. Yami huddled closer into Marik, hiding his face, as people stared at the fresh cuts and bruises and the shreds of his clothes covered over by Marik's long coat, looking from the wounds to the man who held Yami so gently suspiciously. Yami hated the judgement in their eyes; either at the fact that yes they were two men walking closely together, or that he looked like some sort of bondage slave fresh from a 'session'. They didn't know what he had been through, how Marik had looked after and stood by him even when he himself had given up. Marik had saved him so many times he had honestly lost count. Marik was unfazed by the strangers' disapproving looks, he was too busy making sure Yami didn't step out into the traffic from sheer confusion.  
>They arrived at the modest tattoo parlour. It was quiet, usually busiest at midday and in the evening. Yami could see Otogi pottering about inside, cleaning the floor and bopping to his music player. Yami shrank back into Marik apprehensively. He didn't want to deal with someone he knew well, who would <em>have <em>to ask about his tattered and bloody state. Marik kissed his temple and led him inside. Otogi looked up and unhooked an earphone, smothering the look of surprise that leapt to his features.  
>"Hey Otogi," Yami said quietly, avoiding his eyes and clutching Marik's coat around himself, trying to cover up the fact he was wearing clothes given by the hospital. Marik gently stroked the back of his neck, giving Otogi a dejected look that said it all.<br>"Oh, er hey, Yami," Duke said uncertainly, leaning on the broom handle. "Didn't expect to see you around."  
>Yami held Marik's hand tightly and shrugged. Marik squeezed back and said softly, "Yami'll be staying for a little while, Otogi. He's nowhere else to go."<br>Duke was obviously curious but didn't ask. "Sure. Marik, are you going to take your shift tonight, or…?"  
>Marik shook his head and Yami looked down at the floor, blinking rapidly. "I'll stay with Yami tonight, if that's alright."<br>"S'cool," Otogi said, waving them to the door at the back of the shop that concealed the stairs up to the apartment on the second floor, where Duke and Marik lived. Yami looked around, half-interested to notice the few small changes since he had last been there. Marik got him some of his own old clothes to wear, smiling bitterly at the parallelism.  
>"Is there anything I can do, Yami?" Marik asked softly, putting his hands on Yami's arms. Yami laced his arms around Marik's waist and rested his cheek against his chest, tears threatening to spill. Marik gently lifted him and carried him bridal-style into his bedroom, sitting down with his damaged lover on the bed. Yami wept silently, taking comfort in the steady warmth of Marik's arms. "Just say if there's anything you need, okay?" Marik murmured, stoking Yami's fringe out of his eyes. "I'm here."<br>"I'm alright," Yami said hollowly, curling up into Marik's hold. "It seems we're back at this point again."  
>Marik nuzzled his neck comfortingly, making Yami smile a little; Marik knew all his little sensitive spots. "It wasn't all bad back then," Marik murmured into Yami's ear. "And he's definitely out of our lives now."<br>Yami frowned and falteringly asked the question he had been too afraid to ask before. "Marik, wh-who killed him?"  
>"You can't remember?" Marik asked gently, twining his fingers in Yami's hair. Yami shook his head slightly. Marik sighed. "I can't either. One of the paramedics said it was shock, or something. Short term memory loss."<br>Yami didn't want to remember. If he were the killer, he didn't want to remember it. He didn't want to think that That Man was dead because of him; but he also didn't want to think about the little thrill of relief he had felt when Marik had said that he wouldn't be troubling them anymore. It hadn't really sank in before that That Man was dead, out of their way for ever. Equally, if Marik were the killer… he didn't know how he should feel about that. If Marik had killed That Man, he had done it to protect Yami. But that also made him a killer. All he knew was that he was glad – yes, glad – that That Man was dead, whoever had killed him.  
>"Don't think about it," Marik murmured, nuzzling his neck again. "Think of the good times, the good times he couldn't touch and never will."<br>"I can't," Yami mumbled shamefully. "I try and the memories get blocked out by – by—"  
>"It's okay," Marik said, gently laying Yami down on his side, curled up in Marik's arms. Marik slowly moved his hand under Yami's shirt and stroked his stomach, careful not to touch the occasional dressing or scab. He rested his head behind Yami's on the pillow, so his nose was just under Yami's ear. Yami closed his eyes and snuggled back into Marik's chest, feeling very safe. "Remember when we met those first few times?" He murmured.<br>Yami sighed happily as the memory came back fresh and unclouded.

_Their third date. They had met through a dating service and had decided to give it a try, approximately a year and a half ago before That Night. They had gone to see a movie together, some sort of comedy; neither had been paying too much attention as Marik's hand had wandered slightly over Yami's leg for most of the movie. Yami hadn't minded at all. It was getting late, and although Yami didn't have any classes the following day, Marik had to get up early the next day to mind the tattoo parlour as Otogi, Marik's roommate, was on holiday. It was time to call it a night.  
><em>_They walked the streets, meandering in the general direction of Marik's flat (Yami's house with his flatmates was a bit further on in the same direction). They were wrapped up against the cold and Marik had, with a shy look, taken Yami's cold hand into his pocket, holding it in his own warm hand. They reached Marik's flat and dithered about, chatting in the cold.  
><em>"_I guess I'll be off," Yami said awkwardly, not wanting to leave. They'd had such fun. He started to pull his hand out of Marik's pocket.  
><em>_Marik smiled and said nervously, "May I ask you for something, Yami?"  
><em>_Yami looked up at the much-taller man, a shining figure in the moon and lamplight. He stopped moving his hand. "What is it?"  
><em>"_May I kiss you?"  
><em>_Yami immediately blushed, pleased. He looked up into Marik's eyes briefly and away again, blushing harder at the hopeful look on Marik's face. He grinned and nodded. Marik's hand trembled slightly with nerves as he tilted Yami's chin up and leaned down. Yami closed his eyes and pushed his lips up to meet Marik's. They were tentative at first; it was their first kiss and both were anxious. But then, as they forgot to be nervous, and relaxed into the kiss… Yami felt Marik's hands at his cheek and hip, and he laced his arms around Marik's neck, his hands tangling in Marik's wonderfully excessive hair. Marik's tongue touched Yami's lips with an almost electric shock and Yami gladly parted his lips, opened his mouth, and leaned up higher into Marik. They kissed with abandon, exploring each other's mouths with their tongues, uncaring that they were in public. _

Marik smiled, remembering as well.

_Marik had been surprised at how relaxed Yami had been about the kiss; it was only their third date, after all. But he couldn't deny he was enjoying it, and how obviously Yami was enjoying it as well. They kissed until they couldn't breathe and broke apart, eyes slowly opening as they gasped for breath, lips a bare inch apart and hot breath mingling and clouding between them. Yami's eyes were bright and he grinned at Marik as if to say, _Did you like that? _Marik felt a suggestion bubbling on his lips, something he wouldn't normally ask this soon, but it slipped out despite himself.  
><em>"_Would you like to come in for a drink?"  
><em>_Yami's eyes shone brighter and he nodded quickly, surprised but unable to deny that after that all-too-brief contact he wanted more. Marik took his hand and gleefully pulled him into the tattoo parlour, moving quickly to the door at the back that concealed the stairs going up to the flat above the shop, where he and Otogi lived. Yami hadn't met Otogi before but it was okay, seeing as Otogi was on holiday. Marik had the flat all to himself, they wouldn't be interrupted.  
><em>_He took Yami's coat, attention wandering slightly as Yami's shirt untucked itself from the waistband of his trousers to reveal a pale back. Yami automatically tucked it back in, blushing again as he met Marik's appreciative gaze. Marik decided at that point that Yami looked even hotter with a little colour in his cheeks. It made him look like he'd been discovered doing something… a little bit naughty.  
><em>_Marik poured a bit of wine into two glasses and handed one to Yami. He watched Yami delicately sip, hungering for his lips. They had had a little to drink earlier, but it didn't really matter. Yami complemented him on the wine and they chatted for a little, making small talk to disguise the fact they were both wanting more contact. Yami, certainly, felt a little shy. It was Marik's flat, after all, and although they had talked through the dating site for a good few months before meeting face to face a week or so ago, he couldn't pretend that he knew the man inside out. But he was here, in Marik's flat, and loving being there, and what he knew was going to happen very, very soon. There was only one reason you invited someone in for drinks after that sort of a kiss, and they both knew it.  
><em>_Marik slipped to the toilet and Yami wandered around, looking at the comfy rooms, checking his reflection absently in the mirror. He felt just a bit giddy. He texted Joey, one of his flatmates, saying that he wouldn't be back tonight so they didn't have to wait up for him, and grinned at the congratulatory text he got back. He firmly turned the phone off and slid it into his pocket as he heard Marik emerging from the bathroom.  
><em>_Marik's arms slid slowly around his waist and his chin rested on Yami's shoulder, breath warm on his neck. Yami felt his hands tremble slightly at the intoxicating intimacy of that hold and set the glass down so he didn't spill the wine everywhere. He lifted his arms and ran his hands back through Marik's hair, grinning. He could see their reflection in the window and the dark, sexy look in Marik's eyes made him feel so hot he almost couldn't stand it. He felt so _desired _it took his breath away. None of his other boyfriends had ever looked at him like that.  
><em>_Marik pressed his lips to the crook of Yami's jaw, just under his ear. Yami closed his eyes, lips parting in bliss. Marik chuckled and mouthed slowly at the area, making Yami blush again at how sensitive he was to that touch. His hands played with Marik's hair as Marik's hands slowly slid down to his hips. One hand slipped just a little under Yami's waistband, palm resting on his abdomen. When Marik sucked on his neck a little noise escaped his throat and his knees trembled, sagging back against Marik.  
><em>"_Shall we…?" Marik whispered, gesturing towards a closed door that Yami presumed to be Marik's bedroom.  
><em>"_Yes," Yami breathed, following Marik closely inside. He stood by the bed as Marik closed the door and came over, smiling with that sexy look that made Yami's breath come short. Shorter, even. Marik slowly started unbuttoning Yami's shirt and Yami returned the favour, almost shyly. Marik spread the open shirt and grinned lazily, hands wandering over Yami's thin chest and stomach.  
><em>"_Gods, you're a hot little thing," he muttered, bending to taste Yami's chest.  
><em>"_I don't usually…" Yami stuttered, distracted by the touch of Marik's tongue. "On the third date, I don't usually… I don't put out this early, I'm not some sort of…"  
><em>"_No, me neither," Marik mumbled, pulling Yami closer. "I don't think anything like that."  
><em>_Yami smiled and spread Marik's shirt too, appreciating the firm and frankly impressive muscle tone and tan; he wondered absently if the tan was natural or not, and if it were elsewhere. Put out for a moment, he looked at his own pale and thin frame. Marik saw what the problem was and pulled Yami closer.  
><em>"_I've always had a thing for skinny guys," he murmured into Yami's neck, hitting that sensitive spot again. "And to be frank, you're the hottest man I've ever laid eyes on."  
><em>"_Oh," Yami breathed, exploring in the dim light the beautifully intricate tattoos on Marik's back. "That's alright then. Hang on – these are hieroglyphs," he said in surprise, looking down over Marik's shoulder.  
><em>"_Yep," Marik said, strong hands running over Yami's back. "You're studying Egyptology at the university, aren't you. Maybe later you could see if you can translate them?"  
><em>"_Don't you already know what they mean?" Yami asked, tracing the wings across Marik's shoulders.  
><em>"_Well of course I do," Marik smirked. "You might have fun decoding them, though. Call it extra study."  
><em>_Yami laughed and trailed his hands down Marik's back, sliding under his waistband to play with his underwear. Marik pulled Yami down onto the bed, mouthing hungrily at Yami's shoulder with his hands wandering, lightly stroking the slight bulges of Yami's bones just jutting through the pale, pale skin. With a dark chuckle, Yami slipped one hand down Marik's underwear and found Marik already alert and waiting. Yami chuckled again at Marik's groan and started slowly rubbing his hand up and down Marik's length, murmuring appreciatively into Marik's ear. Marik was a well-built man, after all, and Yami liked his muscled bulk so very much. As Yami's hand rubbed harder and harder, Marik captured Yami's mouth and plundered it avidly, marvelling somewhere in the back of his mind that kissing Yami was like having some sort of ocean sprite in his arms; Yami would surge up with the kiss and ebb back down as he gasped for breath, then surge up again for more. Marik loved it.  
><em>"_How do you usually swing?" Marik mumbled between their lips, breathless and restless, needing the touch of Yami's hand and mouth so much it staggered him.  
><em>"_Huh?" Yami slurred, distracted as Marik's hands explored his chest, squeezing and tweaking; as Marik found a particularly sensitive spot his hand tightened convulsively, making Marik moan.  
><em>"_Do you dominate or submit?" Marik asked tightly, grabbing Yami's arse and pulling him closer.  
><em>_Yami rubbed vigorously along Marik's ever-hardening length and whispered in his ear, "I'll submit for you, Marik…" So saying, he lightly stroked the tip of Marik's length and withdrew his hand, making Marik moan in protest and push him onto his back, back onto the bedcovers.  
><em>_Yami laughed and raised his hips so he could unzip his trousers, pushing up against Marik, who grinned and simply put his large hand over Yami's crotch, a delicious pressure that made Yami's knees turn to water and he fell back, hands twitching. Marik gave Yami that sexy, I-want-you-now-hard-and-fast look and stripped him of his trousers, pushing his own down roughly. Yami was beyond feeling shy about his own size; he was a much smaller-built man, after all. Besides, Marik didn't seem to care that he was much more 'endowed' than Yami. He'd meant it when he said he had a thing for skinny guys.  
><em>_Yami spread his legs wide under Marik, letting him grind closer. "There's just one problem," he gasped.  
><em>"_What?"  
><em>_Yami brushed his hand against Marik's crotch. "There's no way you can fit in me," he grinned appreciatively, "Without some serious lubrication."  
><em>_Marik took in Yami's small stature again, nodding slightly. "Not to worry," he smiled, leaning over Yami to fumble in the cupboard by the bed. "I've had this problem before." He produced a small bottle and held it out to Yami to inspect. Yami nodded and passed it back, pushing his hips wider to accommodate Marik's wider frame. Marik spread the lube over his fingers and plunged them into Yami, making him arch with a strangled noise as he carefully widened Yami up, preparing him. Soon Yami was twitching, chest heaving as Marik's fingers massaged his inner muscles, sending pleasure shooting through him and pooling in his groin; he felt so tight and stretched it hurt to be untouched. He whined Marik's name, who understood immediately and closed his hand slowly around Yami's length, squeezing and rubbing ever so slightly, temporarily relieving the interminable pressure. Yami gave a satisfied sigh, and when Marik met his eyes with and enquiring lift to his eyebrows, _are you ready?_, Yami nodded frantically. Gods, how he wanted this.  
><em>_Marik positioned himself and pushed deep into Yami. Yami made this gasping groan, hot and wet into Marik's ear and Marik felt goose-bumps all along his neck; he shivered in anticipation. He pushed in and out, harder and faster when Yami pulled on his hips. With every thrust Yami made that gasping groan, his muscles tightening around Marik's length as he tried to pull Marik further into himself.  
><em>"_I've been told," he gasped unevenly, "That I'm a noisy lover – is that a problem?"  
><em>"_Gods, no," Marik replied, pushing harder, adoring the noise in his ear that got louder and higher with every thrust. "I like a little feedback…"  
><em>_Marik closed his eyes, mouth open and gasping for breath, driving into Yami. He wouldn't have gone so hard but Yami seemed to crave it.  
><em>"_Do you _want_to be a part of this mattress?" Marik gasped disbelievingly when Yami begged for harder and faster. Yami's only reply was to lock his legs around Marik's waist in a tight grip that pushed him further into Yami. Marik groaned and stopped questioning; he was loving every second of this, and it was Yami's choice after all… He garbled something about being close and Yami replied just as inarticulately, the only message conveyed to go harder, he was right behind.  
><em>_Marik gladly complied and gave a hoarse moan, pushing up brutally hard into Yami and releasing in a hot burst that wiped his mind of all thought. Yami convulsed, reflexively tightening and squeezing Marik's length, crying out so loud it echoed in the room as he released, the hot fluid spattering up against Marik's stomach, a few droplets hitting his face.  
><em>_They flopped down in a breathless tangle of hot, heavy limbs. Yami closed his eyes and revelled in the loose, limp feeling of his body, completely sated and satisfied. Marik gathered him into his arms, nuzzling at that sensitive spot under his ear.  
><em>"_Are you alright?" he murmured, carefully disengaging himself and holding Yami close.  
><em>_Yami whispered something and Marik leaned closer to hear. "Best… ever…"_

Marik sighed, hugging his broken lover gently. Their first time as lovers span through his memory, and he knew through Yami's as well. Yami came out of a reverie and made a surprised gurgle in the back of his throat. Marik nuzzled his neck, not needing to ask with words.  
>"Marik, I…" Yami whispered, blushing and trembling. "I need some assistance."<br>Marik smiled to himself; he couldn't deny he didn't have a similar problem. But Yami took priority. He knew Yami wasn't up for full sex right now, so soon after the rape, he just needed a release. So he  
>slipped his hand under Yami's trousers and applied expert pressure, knowing exactly what to do to stimulate Yami. It wasn't long before Yami let go, sighing. Marik gritted his teeth, still unfulfilled. He kissed Yami on the cheek and left for the bathroom to take care of the problem. He thought of the old Yami as he pumped, the fiery Yami who had tangled with him in his bed, begging to be a part of the mattress. It had been a long time since he'd seen that Yami.<p>

* * *

><p>:D Did you enjoy that porn? I know I enjoyed writing it X3 What? I like writing porn it makes my soul happy! No judgement! Chapter Four should be completed and uploaded sometime later tonight.<p>

By the way, the reason I didn't do any of my usual obsessive updating was that I had no internet over the weekend _ But this time I had lappy with me so at least I could write this porn. And yes, I am going to keep calling it porn. XD PORN~

...Sleep deprived? Me? X'D


	4. Chapter 4

More~

There's more CSI-ness than before in this one, and a bit more Clashshipping smut ^^ (apologies if I fudge the science. I call it artistic licence :D )  
>Passges in <em>italics<em> indicate flashbacks.

All YGO characters (c) Kazuki Takahashi  
>CSI (c) Antony E Zuiker<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Four<strong>

The CSIs knocked on the patched-up door to Yami's house and it was answered by a young man with a strange over-to-the-side styling to his blonde hair. He asked them who they were.  
>"We're Crime Scene Investigators," the woman with short brown hair said in a patient voice. "We're here to look around your friend's room. Where it happened."<br>"Oh, right," the young man said, frowning. "How's Yami? We haven't heard from 'im since it happened. Is he awright?"  
>"He went to the hospital for a little, and now he's with his friend, Marik I think he was called."<br>The young man relaxed and smiled tightly. "He's well looked after, then. I'm Joey, by the way. We haven't been in his room. Come in."  
>"Thanks," the woman said, and she and her afroed counterpart walked inside, lugging their heavy silver briefcases after them. They found three other young people huddled in the living room watching them with heavy eyes. It looked like they hadn't slept since the night before, since the murder. A young woman in a dressing gown, a young man with a spike of brown hair and a tall young man staring at the floor. They introduced themselves as Tea, Tristan and Seto. They opened their mouths to start asking questions but Joey raised his hands and forestalled their comments.<br>"He's with Marik, he's okay."  
>They all seemed to relax slightly and Tea yawned.<br>"You'll all have to come to the station to give us your statements later," the afroed man said. "The officers who arrived at the scene should have done it, but I think they messed up."  
>"We weren't here when it happened," Seto said in a low voice. "We were all out for the night and came back afterwards. We left Yami on his own." He clenched his jaw and looked away.<br>The CSIs looked at each other and just walked into Yami's room on the ground floor by the door, stepping under the police tape. The afroed man closed the also-patched-up door behind them.  
>"Signs of forced entry," he said wryly, looking at the splintering around the lock and the obvious shoulder and foot marks on the outside.<br>"Signs of a struggle," the woman sighed, looking at the chaos in the room. It looked as if Yami had tried to hide behind his possessions and had them flung across the room. The bedsheets were rumpled and blood-stained. There was a puddle of blood staining the carpet by the window, and high velocity spatter on the walls. They started processing the room, working from the door to thw window, marking and photographing anything of interest. Eventually there was only the bed left. The woman grimaced and they started straightening out the sheets, after photographing their original state. They took samples of the blood and stripped it down to the base sheet. Turning off the lights, the man scanned over the sheet with his UV torch.  
>"Three separate semen samples," he said in surprise.<br>The woman also scanned. "What on _earth_ was going on here?"  
>"I dunno," the man said grimly. "But someone's not telling the truth."<p>

Meanwhile, the blonde female CSI and the boss had found Bakura Schhadenfroid's house and were opening the door.  
>"He said the victim dragged him here at knifepoint and raped him, just over a year before now," the woman said, shaking her head. "I don't want to believe it, but my gut says he was telling the truth."<br>"Mine too," the boss said grimly, leading the way inside. "We see so much of the worst of humanity, it sometimes makes you wonder…"  
>"Wonder what, Griss?" the woman asked, peering through the first door, into the study.<br>The boss didn't reply as they stared inside.  
>The room was covered in blown-up photographs of about five young men around Yami's age, captured in moments of pain and humiliation, all from directly above. They were all bleeding and crying.<br>"Oh my God," The woman breathed, looking at the pain on their faces. She suddenly pointed to the photographs on the desk and spread most around the room. "That's Yami Motou."  
>They sorted through the photos. They seemed to be still images from video footage, from the occasional blurring. Yami was tied to the bedpost, wrists raw from pulling at the bonds. His face was streaked with tears and blood running from the cuts on his face. He looked absolutely terrified and in agony. The photos followed the abuse being dealt to him, laid out chronologically. How the knife opened his flesh, how Bakura Shhadenfroid smeared his hands in Yami's blood and struck him. The fresh carving of a letter B onto Yami's hip and then a shot of his face, screwed up and screaming. Soon after he looked like he'd been punched in his mouth to shut him up. There were shots of Bakura's trousers coming off and hitching Yami's legs up, and Yami's petrified face. Then a confused picture with much blurring of Bakura penetrating Yami, and the blood that flowed as a consequence. The shots got even blurrier then, supposedly as Bakura thrust into him.<br>The very last picture was a skewed angle of a large tanned hand swinging into the field of the camera's view, just at the side. Presumably that was Marik's entrance, and the Victim hadn't wanted to be reminded of the loss of his prey so hadn't put up further pictures.  
>The woman breathed hard, eyes like stone. "Yami was telling the truth about that first time, it seems." She said grimly, looking at the timestamp on the pictures; a year and a week ago. They looked at the pictures of the other young men, and they all followed the same pattern. The same type of man, youngish and skinny, not too tall, who had taken obvious pride in their appearance. The same pattern of cutting. All with a B carved in their left hip. Only Yami seemed to have been saved, the others had been left tied to the bed for hours afterward, apparently too terrified to sleep. It seemed that Bakura had filmed them and tortured them until he grew bored and let them free.<br>"Look in here," the boss said, rootling through the drawers of the desk. He had found five large folders, each neatly labelled with a name and a picture of each of the young men plastered to the walls. They found the one for Yami and falteringly looked inside, reminding themselves to be scientists and investigate the scene unemotionally.  
>Bakura had been stalking Yami for half a year before the rape. Inside were… many more photos, apparently taken from the same phone. Yami and Marik around Domino, Yami on his own, a few Peeping-Tom type pictures. The folder was full of them, and mapped out Yami's routine movements; where he went, what he did, who he met up with. On the back of each picture were notes like, '10.02 met with Spiky Hair outside house. Left for a movie – Superbad. Ate a share box of sweet popcorn and a large Coke. 11.45 left cinema, back to tat. place for sex. Looked hot. Filed under 205.' And there were more pictures, and more and more, on and on in a hideous exercise in obsession.<br>The woman and the boss exchanged a grim look and went through the other folders.  
>Bakura had stalked the others too, and it seemed that his obsession hadn't ended when he had raped them. His surveillance continued, with his victims looking a lot less sure of themselves, out in public less often. When they were they were often accompanied by other people, their friends, and seemed ill at ease. All of them had been raped again, from the looks of things, just when they had regained their confidence. The first young man to have received Bakura's attention had more surveillance on him, dated to just a day or so ago.<br>"I need to step outside," the woman said firmly, feeling sick at heart. The boss waved his permission and she stood in the gritty, fuggy, foul air trying the clear her head. No matter how hard she tried to shut off her emotions, and think of her job to investigate what was, after all, a homicide… she was revolted by what their 'victim' had done. But if she showed it she could compromise the evidence and the case. She had to get her emotions under control and look at things with just her brain. Her boss seemed able to do it, but then he had years of experience on her.  
>When she had regained her composure she joined her boss inside again, and they moved on through the house. The other rooms were normal and obsessively tidy, except for one room equipped only with a hard bed. The walls were splattered in arterial spray, directed from the bed. This was where he had raped them.<p>

Back at the lab, the CSIs held a meeting that used to be called a Brainstorming Session but, because of Political Correctness, was now called a Case Meeting, where they would try and hammer out the details of the case to find possible answers.  
>"Let's start with the gun," the boss said, clasping his hands on the table.<br>The afroed man held up a photo of the bloody-handled gun. "9 millimetre, standard issue. He could have got it anywhere, Trace and Ballistics are still trying to get a serial number off the butt. No fingerprints because of all the blood on the handle, which tested positive as Yami Motou's. Five shots fired, all found in the vic."  
>"With Yami's blood on the handle, isn't it obvious who fired it? Yami." The brunette woman said.<br>"Not necessarily," the boss said. "Both their hands were covered with blood, nullifying the test for GSR, and the cops at the scene said Marik was holding Yami when they arrived, trying to stop the bleeding. Either of them could have picked up the gun. Let's move on to other evidence until Trace and Ballistics get back to us on the serial number."  
>"We found three semen samples on Yami's bed," the brunette woman said, pointing at the relevant photos and DNA reports. "From Yami, Marik and Bakura. The samples from Yami and Marik were slightly degraded, suggesting they happened earlier. DNA said they were probably a week or so old, whereas Bakura's sample was mixed with Yami's blood and most likely made less than an hour prior to his death."<br>"We found two mobile phones in Yami's room," the brunette woman continued. "One belonging to Yami, the other to the vic. Yami made a call to Marik's phone a few minutes before Bakura's estimated death; Archie's trying to get the sound file. Bakura was filming," she said grimly, not needing to go into more detail. "Archie's trying to find that footage as well, but blood got into the circuits so it might take a while."  
>"Tox screens from the blood samples?" the boss asked, nodding his thanks to the brunette woman.<br>"Yami's blood, collected from the bed and the dressings from the hospital, tested negative for all known substances. He doesn't even smoke. Bakura's blood, collected from the floor and body, was positive for cocaine, high grade. We couldn't get a sample off Marik."  
>The boss frowned. "When you bring them in again, get a sample."<br>"When?" the afroed man asked, speaking for the rest of the group.  
>"Soon. What were those other semen samples doing there, and why did neither of them mention it? And interview their friends too, Yami Motou's roommates and Marik Ishtar's roommate Otogi. See if all their stories add up. If we can find out why it appears Yami and Marik were having sex earlier in the week from Bakura Shhadenfroid's death, it could put a whole new angle on things."<br>"What are you thinking, boss?" the blonde woman asked, hands on hips. "Some sort of jealous love triangle?"  
>"Exactly," the boss said, waving them out of the door. "Go on, get to work."<p>

Marik frowned at the knocking on the door, blinking awake from his doze. He and Yami had been trying to sleep, wrapped up in each other's arms and tangled in Marik's duvet. Yami's eyes went wide at the knocking, the sound bringing back a few shaky memories of the night before, not quite remembered fully but enough to scare him. Marik gently disentangled himself and went to answer the door; if it were Otogi he would have just come in, so he knew it had to be the police. None of Yami's friends had ever been to the tattoo parlour.  
>Sure enough, it was them.<br>"We need to ask you a few more questions," the blonde woman who had originally interviewed them said gently, looking about for Yami. Marik held the door firmly so they couldn't see inside.  
>"Can't you let him rest? He'd only <em>just<em> gotten to sleep when you all arrived," he said sourly, looking at the team of CSIs and a few policemen.  
>"Well I'm sorry that's the case," the woman said neutrally, "But we need to ask you both some more questions. If you'd like to fetch him? There's no need to get uncivilised about this. Half an hour or so down at the station and you can come back to rest."<br>"Fine," Marik sighed, going to try and pry Yami out of his bed. Yami didn't want to get up and needed another dose of painkillers to unwind himself; his limbs had stiffened slightly too, and he broke a few scabs accidentally by moving. Marik had to help him walk to the door and glared at the CSIs as if to say, _see the pain he's in? This is your fault.  
><em>They took it calmly, however, and escorted them back to the police station.

Yami's roommates were being interviewed.  
>"What did he tell you about what happened just over a year ago?" The afroed man asked delicately.<br>The four exchanged looks and shrugged. "Nothin'," Joey said. "He just seemed to change overnight. At first we thought Marik had done sommat to 'im—" he broke off as Tea kicked him reprovingly. "Okay, okay, _I_ thought Marik had done sommat to 'im. He was all quiet and withdrawn and the only person 'oo could bring him outta it was Marik."  
>"There's no easy way to tell you this," the afroed man said, pushing a photo if the vic towards them. "Just over a year ago, this man kidnapped and – abused – Yami. I understand Marik rescued him."<br>Tea's hand flew to her mouth and tears filled her eyes. "Poor Yami! He never said a word to us!"  
>"He probably felt ashamed," Seto said grimly, bitterly. "Just think if you got raped, would you want to tell all your friends?"<br>"Tell me about the relationship Yami and Marik had after that incident."  
>"It was peaceful," Tristan said softly, looking at the floor. "I mean, we were used to Yami's usual … type… and sure it was like that before, but after then… it was like Yami <em>needed<em> Marik just to get up and go."  
>Tea put her hand on Tristan's knee comfortingly. "Yami always needed to be touched, he was a very physical person especially with his boyfriends. But I guess after that night… he kept pulling Marik's arms around him, like he felt safe there."<br>"So there was no abuse that you saw?" The afroed man asked just to clarify. They all looked horrified.  
>"No," Seto said firmly. "Marik wouldn't dream of hurting Yami. He was completely committed to him."<br>"What about their sex life, as lovers?" The afroed man asked a little uncomfortably. He could never get used to asking that.  
>"I don't think there was any, not for a long time," Tea said quietly, looking at the others for support. "They were certainly very close. Yami was always holding Marik's hand or sitting in his lap or being hugged, but I think the most – sexual – it got for a long, long while was a kiss on the cheek."<br>"Well," Seto said, an eyebrow quirking up. "Until about a week ago."

The blonde woman pushed a series of photos towards Yami again, the photos she and her boss had found in the folders of Bakura's desk. He glanced down at them and his whole face flamed up from his neck to his ears; he slammed them face-down on the table.  
>She raised her eyebrows. "It's just you and Marik in there."<br>"Where – how – did you get those?" Yami asked intently, unable to quite meet her eyes and holding the pictures down as if they fought to show off their contents.  
>The woman softened slightly. "We found them in the victim's desk. As you know, they predate the first time he raped you."<br>Yami struggled with words. "He – he was stalking me?" he whispered, the blush fading slightly.  
>She nodded and gently turned one over, showing a rather intimate picture of Yami with his pants down and Marik's head between his legs, hands on Yami's hips as Yami arched, mouth open in a wide grin, eyes closed. Yami flamed up again and tried to slam the picture over but she whisked it out of the way, looking at it dispassionately.<br>"Why so embarrassed? It looks like you were having fun."  
>"How would you feel," Yami said tightly, "If strangers had evidence of you at your most reserved, most vulnerable? At those moments so intensely private you'd never speak of them?" He grabbed for the picture determinedly. "You think because I'm gay I'd feel any different than you, if our positions were reversed?"<br>The woman relented thoughtfully and let him take the picture and hold it face down with the others. "This was one of the first pictures the victim had of you. It seems to have been the first day he was stalking you, certainly. He must have gotten into the apartment across and had a peek through the windows; you should really close the curtains if you don't want to get spied on, you know."  
>Yami looked away, shaking slightly in mortification. "What do you <em>want<em>?"  
>"Tell me about what made that particular day special," she said softly. "Tell me what caused his obsession with you."<br>Yami licked his lips and stared at the floor as he told her.

_It was a few months into their relationship, and the height of summer. They were going strong, having a lot of fun and enjoying being with each other. It was the day of his third-year results, and Yami leaned against the wall by Marik's tattoo parlour, munching on a toffee apple in the warm sunshine. He had looked in and seen Marik was busy with a customer and waited for him to finish.  
><em>_Soon Marik came out, wiping freshly-washed hands on his work apron. He grinned to see Yami, looking him up and down lasciviously with that sexy look that was never hidden whenever he looked at Yami and made him feel so hot. He stepped up close and bent to lick at the toffee apple, meeting Yami's eyes over the top.  
><em>"_Enough apple for me?"  
><em>_Yami grinned slowly, licking at the apple too. "How you can make that sound like an innuendo I have no idea."  
><em>"_It's a skill," Marik said, one hand trailing down Yami's arm to his hip. Yami stepped closer so their legs were pressed together, only the apple keeping them apart. "Mm," Marik said, eyebrows raised suggestively as Yami pressed up close.  
><em>"_I got my results," Yami said quietly, biting the apple but looking at Marik the whole time.  
><em>"_How'd you do?"  
><em>"_I got all Firsts," Yami smiled, going to take a bite. Instead he found Marik's mouth, sweet like the toffee syrup, and his arms holding him tight, spinning him around until he felt dizzy. Yami pulled away and laughed in pure joy as Marik beamed at him, refusing to let him go and holding him effortlessly, spinning high.  
><em>"_Gods, well done Yami!" Marik grinned, letting his feet touch the ground again but holding him close, apple forgotten in one hand as he nuzzled Yami's neck. Yami sighed and melted happily, a smug expression on his face.  
><em>_Next thing he knew, Marik had pulled him up the stairs and locked the door behind them, pushing Yami into his bedroom.  
><em>"_Wh-what about your shift?" Yami gasped as Marik's hands plunged down his trousers.  
><em>"_I've got time," he said throatily into Yami's neck, pushing him down to sit on the edge of the bed. Yami complied in a near-daze, surprised by Marik's actions but unable to deny him. "I've always got time for you…"  
><em>_So saying, he knelt before Yami, between his legs, and attacked his belt with his teeth. Yami groaned as Marik's teeth grazed across his abdomen. Marik pulled the zip down with a startling degree of expertise, hands sliding up Yami's thighs to hold his hips.  
><em>"_Have you ever had one of these before?" Marik said in a low voice, looking up from Yami's crotch at his flushed face. Yami shook his head, lips parting as blood rushed through his body in an intoxicating rush to pool in his groin. Marik gave a dark chuckle and pulled Yami's pants down. "Then let me give you your first. As a well-done present."  
><em>_His head dipped lower and his lips parted too, sheathing Yami in his mouth. Yami gave a startled cry at the incredible moist heat of Marik's mouth, giddy and breathless. At that moment Yami's phone rang.  
><em>"_Don't answer it," Marik mumbled, the vibration of his voice making Yami give that gasping groan Marik so adored to have in his ear. Yami obeyed and the phone soon stopped ringing, only to start again a moment later.  
><em>_With a frustrated sigh, Yami awkwardly lent down to pick it up and answer. "What is it, Joey?" he asked breathlessly as Marik kept on.  
><em>"_Hey, how'd ya do?" Joey asked cheerfully.  
><em>"_All Firsts," Yami gasped. "You?"  
><em>"_Naw, not quite so good. You okay, Yami?"  
><em>"_Y-You've got me at an awkward moment, Joey," Yami said, biting his lip to stop the moan that threatened. "Could you ring back a bit later?"  
><em>"_Whah?"  
><em>"_I'm with Marik," Yami said tightly, closing his eyes and shaking slightly at the intensity of Marik's mouth and tongue lapping and sucking against his length.  
><em>_Joey, on the other end, gave a huge "Oh!" of realisation and started laughing. "I'll call ya back then!"  
><em>_Marik suddenly deep-throated Yami and the phone slipped out of his nerveless fingers to bounce on the floor. Yami cried out, arching his back. With one hand Marik ended the call and sucked hard until Yami released. Yami gasped for breath, chest heaving as Marik chuckled and swallowed the fluid that coursed down his throat in a hot rush.  
><em>"_G-Gods," he whispered, eyes still closed. He swayed slightly. Marik gently licked up Yami's length then pulled back, sitting next to a rather drowsy Yami and holding him.  
><em>"_Well done, my sweet," he purred proudly. "You worked hard for those Firsts."  
><em>_Yami started to laugh._

Yami hadn't told her all the details, of course, but enough. She nodded thoughtfully. "The joy," he murmured to herself. "Yes, that seems consistent."  
>Yami said nothing, mortified.<p>

Later, the CSIs met again. The blonde woman opened with, "It seems his obsession started when he saw them at their best, and tried to bring them down to rock bottom. Then, with the first young man, right when he was better again the Vic dragged him back."  
>"That's a bit of a strong conclusion to make," the boss said neutrally. "Let's keep all options open for now."<br>"What now?" The brunette asked. "It seems we have a Vic we should be glad isn't causing more harm and two potential suspects who can't remember a thing. Allegedly."  
>"We follow the evidence."<p>

* * *

><p>Lame ending is lame, I know. Sorry.<br>Next chapter will be the last~ Stay tuned folks~ XD


	5. Chapter 5

More~ The last chapter~ _Edited due to massive plothole near the end, only the last scene in the interview room is different. Sorry again!_

Contains: one instance of bad language, graphic rape scene, Clashshipping smut, pairings other than Clashshipping (be shocked and amazed. I wrote something that's not Clash! 80 ), anorexia and self-harm references, knifeplay, torture...

Passages in _italics_ show flashbacks. And there's quite a few in this chapter. :D

All YGO characters (c) Kazuki Takahashi  
>CSI (c) Antony E Zuiker<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five<strong>

Marik tapped the tabletop impatiently. Once again, they had separated him from Yami. "Look, how often are you going to do this? Let us go, let us get a little bit of normality then fuck it up again? Yami needs to rest."  
>"Our investigation is coming to a close," the afroed man said, unperturbed. "We just need to ask you a few more questions."<br>"Like what?" Marik said, exasperated. He folded his arms and raised an eyebrow.  
>"What was the effect on Yami, immediately after the rape?"<br>"He was just hunky dory," Marik retorted sarcastically. The afroed man didn't rise to the bait and waited patiently. Marik sighed and uncrossed his arms. "He was… broken. It was like the Yami I knew had hidden away somewhere. I worried about him constantly."  
>"How so?"<br>Marik gave him a sharp look. "I've always liked skinny guys, but Yami went anorexic for a very long time. It was all I could do to get him to have a bit of toast each day, and I know his friends worried about him too. I asked him about it, and he said he didn't want to be attractive anymore." Marik looked down, frowning gloomily. "He didn't want to stand out in the crowd in case it happened again. He stopped looking after his appearance, stopped dying his hair and styling it, stopped caring."  
>"How long did this depression last for?"<br>"A few months," Marik gloomed. "Then he started cutting."  
>The afroed man dug in the case file for the recent photos of Yami's injuries, and found one of Yami's arms. Faint white scar lines traced all over his forearms and wrists, horizontal and vertical, a network of harm.<br>"I tried stopping him, but…" Marik sighed. "It seemed to help him for a little while. And I knew if I forbade him from doing it when I was around he'd do it when he was alone, and there wouldn't be anyone to take care of him if he cut too deep." Marik bit his lip, hands clenching together as the old worries haunted him again. "I knew that at least while I was there when he cut, he wouldn't go too deep. And he'd have someone to bandage him up again. Sometimes he'd pass out from the pain and if I hadn't been there to stop the bleeding… I don't think Yami would be here right now."  
>"And you stayed with him."<br>Marik looked up. "Of course I did. I care about him."  
>The afroed man digested that for a moment. "How long did that persist?"<br>"Another few months. Before I knew it, it was a year since That Night," Marik said, shaking his head. "That was a tough year for us both."  
>"What happened then?"<br>"I'm guessing you've already interviewed Yami's friends?" Marik said dryly, raising an eyebrow.  
>The afroed man nodded. "Your account would be appreciated."<br>Marik smiled as the memory, only a week or so old, came alive in his mind.

_They were at Yami's house, all curled up in their respective couples on the couches; Seto and Joey pretending not to hold hands, Tristan holding his hands over his girlfriend Miho's eyes, apparently under the impression that she would be too scared by the monsters on the screen with their squid-faces and Satanic mind-control. And Tea was giving covert envious looks at Yami, who was snuggled up in Marik's arms, legs tucked under him and resting over Marik's lap. Marik had his arms around Yami's waist, cheek resting on Yami's hair, while Yami absently clutched at his shirt. It seemed to soothe him to sit so closely, and on today of all days Marik was more than happy to oblige. It was exactly a year since That Night, and Yami had been quiet and withdrawn all day. He had been so much better recently, going outside without needing Marik with him, he had even dyed his hair for the first time in about a year. Marik nuzzled at the bright tri-coloured spikes happily, pleased at this small sign of Yami's recovery. His slow recovery seemed to have been halted by today's sick anniversary; Marik hoped it was just temporary.  
><em>_Yami resettled himself, smiling at Marik who smiled gently back, wondering what Yami was thinking. Yami dithered for a moment then suddenly leaned forwards, hands cupping Marik's face as he kissed Marik passionately. Marik was frozen for a bare second in surprise then made a pleased noise in the back of his throat, arms winding tight and hands wandering freely up and down Yami's back, opening his mouth and kissing Yami eagerly, hardly daring to believe that it was happening. After waiting so long!  
><em>_The others made surprised noises and an appreciative whistle or two, but were ignored. Marik was just so pleased to be touching Yami sexually rather than platonically, he held Yami tight, their first kiss all over again. After a moment Yami pulled back and Marik leaned forward, following Yami with a frustrated growl. Yami grinned, eyes bright, and got up, pulling Marik by the hand out of the living room to his bedroom, accompanied by more ignored whistles and a request to turn the volume on the TV up.  
><em>_Yami closed the door behind them firmly and practically leapt at Marik, hands pulling at his shirt almost uncaringly, like he didn't even register that the shirt might look better whole. Marik didn't care that his shirt was being ripped; he crushed Yami up against his body and kissed him hard, sucking at his neck. And once again Marik heard Yami's gasping groan, making him want to molest Yami like nobody's business. Yami walked him over to the bed and they fell onto it, Yami crouching over Marik. His mouth trailed down Marik's neck and chest and Marik moaned, flinging the tattered bits of his shirt away so they wouldn't interfere with the delicious touch of Yami's lips and tongue.  
><em>_But he had to stop this.  
><em>_He caught Yami's hands and forced him to look up, ignoring the long-burning desire raging through him. "Why now, Yami?" he asked breathlessly. "Why today of all days?"  
><em>_Yami turned serious and sat up a bit. "I don't want to forever associate this day with – with That Man. I want to paint over those memories."  
><em>_Marik smirked, unable to stoop himself from saying, "You want to whitewash the memory?"  
><em>_Yami grinned and laughed. "Think you can supply the whitewash?"  
><em>_Marik looked at Yami, the Yami he had known before, back in action and wanting it bad. Just like the old days. "Gods yes," he groaned, letting Yami's hands go to wander where they liked.  
><em>_For a few minutes all thought was wiped from their minds as they rediscovered each other, touch and taste and sound all their brains could handle. Yami steadily pushed Marik down and he understood without needing to be told that this once, Yami had to be dominant; Marik gladly succumbed. As Yami grabbed at his belt, Marik came back to himself slightly.  
><em>"_Hang on, hang on," he gasped. "Lube!"  
><em>"_Haven't got any," Yami replied in a low voice, bending to lick under Marik's ear and threatening to scatter his thoughts further. "Ran out and didn't replace."  
><em>"_Need lube," Marik said weakly.  
><em>_Yami got up from his crouching straddle and let Marik stand, watching every movement lasciviously. "Go see Joey," he murmured with a dark, want-you-now look in his eyes that Marik knew was a reflection of his own expression. Yami smirked. "Find something you like."  
><em>_Marik gave him a mock-salute and slipped shirtless out the door. He couldn't help but blush at the others waiting almost outside the door, clearly having been eavesdropping. He absently noticed some appreciative staring at his muscled and tattooed upper body but ignored it. "Um," he said uncomfortably, "Anyone got any lube we could use?"  
><em>_Luckily the moment was saved from being even more awkward by Joey grinning and leading Marik off, causing some raised eyebrows at Seto, who took their appraisal stoically. Joey had a surprising range of lubes in his room and Marik blushingly took one that he thought Yami would like too, avoiding Joey's eyes as he snickered. He firmly closed the door on Yami's friends and was pounced again by Yami, pushing him back onto the bed and under him, mouth sealing off any protest that wouldn't have been made anyway.  
><em>_Time passed and they paid it no attention, concentrating only on each other as they pleasured each other as if That Man had never intruded, as if nothing was different. Gods, it was everything Marik had lusted after with Yami so often in his arms but never in his bed. They fell upon each other without restraint, swapping roles and finding that hot spark ignite again.  
><em>_A long time later they lay back, panting for breath. Marik threaded his hand gently through Yami's thoroughly-ruffled hair and stroked his hip, feeling Yami stroke his leg up against Marik's in a slow caress.  
><em>"_Consider That Night whitewashed," Yami said when he got his breath back. He smiled lazily up at Marik and Marik let his hand wander down to Yami's arse, squeezing gently, loving the sound of Yami's breathing hitch and the smooth feel of his pale skin warm under his hand. The scar of a B on Yami's hip was ignored. It was a mark of what he had been through, for sure, but also a mark of how close it had brought them.  
><em>

In the lab, the blonde woman and the boss were reviewing the tape Archie had retrieved from Bakura Shhadenfroid's mobile. It wasn't pleasant.  
>They didn't know how Bakura had gotten in Yami's house – though the splintered lock would seem to suggest blunt force – but Yami appeared to be almost hysterical with fear, sobbing and not trying to resist as Bakura pinned him down on the bed, laughing and gloating and cutting Yami hard with his knife, raping him, the same as before. There were sounds of running and Marik clearly calling for Yami and battering on the door. Yami wailed and screamed out and was punched repeatedly around the face. Bakura thrust harder and harder into Yami, making him scream in pain and terror to the odd counterpoint of Marik trying to break the door down. Marik succeeded and from there the footage became difficult as Bakura was thrown bodily away from Yami and the phone skittered away, resting on the camera so they had only a shot of the floor and audio. Yami kept wailing in pain and fear, sounding like a small child afraid of the older children wearing spooky masks. The sound of a scramble and then five shots, followed by silence broken only by Yami's hysterical sobbing and the sound of the gun hitting the floor, and Marik trying to calm Yami down.<br>"It's grim," the blonde woman said when it was finished.  
>"And gives us almost no clues as to who shot our vic," the boss said, sounding almost annoyed. "It could have been either one."<br>"It seems more likely it was Marik," the blonde woman said professionally. "He's a lot stronger, both physically and emotionally, than Yami. He seems like he would be capable of shooting the man hurting Yami, especially after throwing him across the room like that."  
>"I don't know," the boss hummed thoughtfully. "Yami could have snapped and lashed out against his attacker, once he knew Marik was there and he was safe. You can never really tell with rape victims if they want vengeance or a halt to their pain."<br>The woman shrugged. "Sara's interviewing him now."

"Yami," the woman said gently. "Tell me what happened yesterday."  
>"I don't want to," he whispered, rubbing at the scars on his wrists. The woman put her hand over his to stop him worrying at the vertical lines. He jerked away from her touch and she backed off.<br>"Just once, Yami," the woman said cajolingly. "You'll have to go through it just the once, and then that'll be it, I promise. Be brave, Yami. Think of Marik, of that helps."  
>Yami gave her a fleeting smile for that comment and took a deep breath, summoning the memories he had blocked away.<br>_He was feeling confident enough this past week to not need mollycoddling when going outside. He felt he was finally over what had happened, and was ready to move on.  
><em>_Then, as he had been about to leave the house, he saw… Him. That Man. Waiting on the other side of the road, watching his every move. Yami stopped and felt cold sweat start out on his forehead. His mind went through a brief cycle of _can it really be Him? Is my mind playing tricks? Oh Gods no it's not, he's crossing the street!  
><em>Yami backed into the house as the man crossed the street, grinning widely. Yami slammed the door shut and ran for his room, locking the door and hearing a distressed whimpering escape his lips.<br>_Bang! Bang! Bang! … _he was breaking in.  
><em>_Yami felt fear consume him. This was the worst nightmare of the last year, that That Man would find him again and this time there would be no escape, no Marik to save him because he was working and Yami had been foolish enough to try and do anything on his own and That Man was breaking in and Yami could only huddle against his door, praying to whatever gods may be out there to save him…  
><em>_There was just one clear thought in Yami's mind – _need Marik!

The woman got out Marik's phone, in a plastic evidence bag. She pressed a few buttons and accessed his voicemail. Yami shuddered as it brought back even more vivid memories.

_He pulled out his phone with shaking fingers, hitting the speed-dial and clutching it to his ear. The door was going to give way soon and he was all alone in the house…  
><em>"_The person you are trying to contact is currently unavailable. Please leave your message after the tone."  
><em>"_Marik!" Yami whimpered as the door gave way with a crash and That Man started hammering on Yami's bedroom door. "Marik, help me! He's found me, he's found me again and oh Gods he's in the house and I need you and he's here! Marik he's here! Help me help me help me!" He cried, trying to buffer the door but he was too thin and light; the lock splintered and was kicked in, whacking Yami on the temple and making him drop the phone.  
><em>_That Man forced his way in, jammed the door shut and slapped Yami hard; Yami was hysterical with fear as That Man put his hands on Yami and forced him to the bed, pinning him with his legs. There was no need to tie his hands this time; Yami was too terrified to do anything to resist. It was the nightmare that had haunted him for a year just recently banished but it held such power over him still, he could do nothing to defend himself as That Man cut him harder than he had the first time, in new places, shearing his clothes away in bloody ribbons. He got the phone out. The red light started blinking.  
><em>"_I've waited so long for this," That Man said in his husky, slightly-accented voice. "A whole year, gods it's been hard." He grinned evilly. "Hard for you."  
><em>_So saying he unzipped his pants and shoved himself brutally into Yami, laughing at Yami's screams and sobs of pain.  
><em>"_Just when they think they're okay, I come back for them and drag them back to hell," the man laughed. "And you took much longer to get over me than the others, I _am_flattered. Ah, so much better than I'd imagined…" he tailed off, dragging the knife's point into Yami's hip, reforming the B scar and making it bigger, uglier than before. He pounded into Yami like he couldn't stand to be so hard – and hard he was. He ripped into Yami afresh with every thrust and daubed the blood that flowed onto his face and chest, cackling all the while.  
><em>"_Aren't you having fun, my little firefly?" he crooned, abruptly altering his angle of thrust to drive into Yami in a new place that screeched with fresh pain. Yami tossed his head, tears and blood mingling as he screamed his throat raw. Why did no one hear him? Was there no one coming for him? Where was Marik?  
><em>_Yami's torment ceased to mean anything but pain and degradation as That Man pounded roughly into him, laughing and grunting as his thrusts got harder and faster until he moaned like an animal, stabbing into Yami's hip and pumping his seed deep into Yami, scorching his bleeding insides. Yami trembled convulsively shouting all the while, mind trying to detach itself from the present, trying to hide away from the pain and the horror.  
><em>"_Ooh, I knew you were a noisy lover, my little firefly, but that really tops it," That Man laughed, stroking Yami's bloody cheek oddly tenderly. "Let's hear it again, shall we?"  
><em>_He was hard again – Yami didn't even wonder at the man's stamina, he was in too much pain to care – and drove again into Yami, hands on Yami's shoulders and he knife at his jaw, staring into Yami's terrified, wide, tear-filled eyes. Yami couldn't look away from the hideous joy on the man's face, whimpering and shrieking by turns as the man neared completion again, tearing into him.  
><em>_The sound of a car screeching to a halt outside and hurried footsteps. Marik called for Yami and Yami screamed for him, angering That Man. He belted Yami around the face and ground into him until he stopped, but by then Marik had already heard him and was trying to get in through the jammed door. The man thrust harder, determined to finish, and Yami tried struggling, strengthened now that Marik was near.  
><em>"_My little firefly," the man said contemptuously, "One simple question: over the past year, who have you thought about more – me or him?" He smirked and slammed hard into Yami, pouring into him again right as Marik broke through and threw him off Yami so his seed sprayed over Yami, who screamed again hoarsely; it was difficult to tell which was more painful – the penetration or the tearing away.  
><em>_That Man got to his feet, face like a thundercloud. Everyone looked at the gun that had fallen out of the man's pocket onto the floor, equidistant from all of them._

Yami couldn't continue.  
>"What happened then, Yami?" the woman asked intently. "How did Bakura Shhadenfroid die?"<br>"By the gun," Yami said woodenly.  
>"That's not what I was looking for and you know it," she said. "Look, Yami, if you're covering for Marik… it's honourable, it's even very loving, but justice must be served. Did Marik shoot him?"<br>"He died by the gun."  
>"But by whose hand, Yami?"<p>

"I was working at the time Yami called me," Marik said to the blonde woman. "My flatmate, Otogi, had my phone. He didn't pick up but he heard the voicemail message and ran it to me." Marik paused and shook his head. "He knew Yami, they're good friends."  
>"How?"<br>Marik raised an eyebrow. "Yami was round my place a lot while we were dating, before and after That Night. They were bound to bump into each other. So he brought me my phone, told me to run, and I got in my car and went to Yami."  
>"Yes, I have Otogi's statement. I'll just ask you this straight up: did you shoot Bakura Shhadenfroid?"<p>

"You owe me breakfast," the blonde woman crowed at her boss.  
>"Three points: one, when did we make that a bet; two, I don't remember placing any stakes; and three, you're wrong, you owe <em>me<em> breakfast." He replied smugly.  
>"What? But Marik confessed."<br>"So did Yami."  
>The woman put her hands on her hips. "But the audio from the vic's phone indicated there was only one shooter!"<br>Her boss smiled slightly. "They're covering for each other," he said peacefully. "It's kinda sweet, actually. One of them is lying to protect the other, and one of them is telling the truth so the other doesn't suffer."  
>"Sweet as it may be, someone's lying and a man is dead. He might have been a serial rapist from the looks of things, but <em>you<em> taught me to fight for the sinners as well as the saved, Griss. It's our duty to find out which one of them killed him and let the law deal with him."  
>Her boss' smile turned sad. "When did you memorise my speeches, Cath?"<p>

Marik and Yami were brought into the same interviewing room and Marik held Yami's hand securely under the table.  
>"Do you know why we brought you both in here?"<br>"Kicks and giggles?" Yami mumbled distractedly, feeling the painkillers fading. Marik gently squeezed his hand and he concentrated again.  
>"Not quite," the boss said, sitting across from them with the blonde woman. "You both confessed to shooting the victim, though we know it can only be one of you."<br>Simultaneously, Yami and Marik looked at each other and said, "Why did you do that?"  
>"So," the blonde woman said softly. "Who was lying?"<br>"I shot him," Marik said immediately, looking them right in the face with a steady voice. "I confess freely."  
>"No, it was me!" Yami frowned at Marik. "Don't protect me from this, Marik. I know you've had to be my protector for so long now, but I'm ready to take the consequences. It was me."<br>"Yami," Marik said, as if his heart were breaking, "I'm not trying to do anything. I'm telling the truth."  
>Yami shook his head stubbornly. "Don't do this."<br>Marik cupped Yami's cheek in one palm. "Yami, this is what must be. I'm not sorry I killed him, because I was protecting you. I wouldn't have done a thing differently."  
>"No, Marik…" Yami whispered, a single tear running down his cheek.<br>"It's okay," Marik said softly, stroking the tear away with his thumb.  
>"B-But I remember holding the gun," Yami said in confusion.<br>Marik smiled gently. "Yes. You picked it up but I took it from you. I didn't want you to be touched anymore by anything That Man did. So I stopped you from killing him. He started coming towards us, and I shot him. Three in the chest, one in the head and one in the groin. I remember it, Yami. It's okay."  
>The woman and her boss exchanged a glance. He nodded solemnly to the policeman in the corner. He stepped forward and put his hand on Marik's shoulder. "Marik Ishtar, I am placing you under temporary arrest—"<br>"No!" Yami cried, flinging himself forwards to cling to Marik. Marik cradled him gently and they were pulled up to stand by the policeman, Yami still clinging. Yami shook, tears dampening the front of Marik's shirt. Marik held him close, burying his face in his spiky hair.  
>"If you go with the officer here," the boss said in a regular voice, obviously a speech learned by experience, "He'll take you to a holding cell, where you'll stay until the trial."<br>"Trial?" Yami said, not letting go of Marik. Marik breathed in the unique scent of Yami's hair, wanting to treasure it.  
>"The weight of evidence that you are indeed the person who caused the victim's death is circumstantial," the blonde woman said. "The only witnesses we have are you two, who are obviously biased, and the audio from the vic's phone, which is inconclusive."<br>"What does that mean?" Yami frowned.  
>"It means that my conviction is based on my confession alone," Marik said quietly. "And that's not really hard evidence."<br>"There's also the self-defence or defence of a loved one plea," the boss said, shrugging. "I reckon you've a fair shot at that. Especially with a lawyer."  
>Marik gave a bitter half-smile and squeezed Yami.<br>"I still don't want them to take you," Yami mumbled. Marik sighed contentedly and leaned down further, kissing Yami's temple.  
>"It's okay, Yami," he whispered into Yami's ear. "I choose this. And – I want you to know… I love you."<br>Yami sobbed and clung tighter. "I-I love you too, Marik."  
>"Be strong," Marik whispered and was pulled away by the policeman and out of the door. Yami made a bereft little noise and watched Marik being hauled away through the open door. Halfway down the corridor Marik turned and gave a wobbly smile, looking right into Yami's eyes. Yami pressed his fingers to his lips and dried his tears, smiling back. This was not a goodbye, not for good.<p>

The CSIs cleared up the case-files. The blonde woman seemed satisfied though her boss had a small frown on his face.  
>"What's up, boss?" the brunette teased him.<br>"Yeah you've got a frown like the Grand Canyon up there," the afroed man smiled.  
>"I just don't think this was an open-and-shut case," their boss hedged. Pressed, he eventually gave his opinion. "I think Marik confessed far too quickly and guiltlessly. I think he's trying to take the fall for Yami."<br>The others considered his opinion for a moment. The brunette put her hand on his shoulder familiarly.  
>"C'mon, breakfast time. And you're buying."<br>Many nights later, Yami tossed in Marik's bed, alone except for Otogi in the other room. Memories invaded his dreams.

_Seeing the gun just lying there on the floor. The pain swelling and crashing against him like waves, and seeing That Man over there, livid and getting up, spitting a bit of blood out on his floor.  
><em>_Somehow that made it all the worse. This man had abused him, made his past year a living hell, marked up his body, sent him into a depression spiral… and thought he owned Yami so much that he could just spit on his floor.  
><em>_He lunged forward with a snarl at the same time as the others did, ignoring the pain that stabbed through him as they all fought for the gun. Marik punched the man in the face and he reeled back. Now Yami and Marik both had a hand on the gun.  
><em>_Marik looked into his eyes and shook his head, as if to say, _this isn't the way.  
><em>But Yami looked at the man who had done so much harm… and a roaring filled his ears. He snatched the gun, held the cold steel in his hands. The dull yet persistent sound of gun shots. Then silence, broken only by the sound of muffled sobbing and a clatter as nerveless fingers released the gun. Warm arms around him, hands pressing at the sore and weeping wounds with gentle care. Closing his eyes, choosing to look away from That Man lying sprawled on the floor, redness leaking from him. Everything seemed dull but for the redness and the tan arms around him, holding him safe and secure and trying to staunch the redness on his chest, arms, legs.<em>

Yami awoke in a cold sweat. For a moment he was disorientated but remembered he was in Marik's room. He sat up and hugged himself, closing his eyes in the darkness. His own arms were no substitute for Marik's comforting hold.  
>But Marik's shortened term would be over in a few days. And then they could be together again, and Yami was never letting him go ever again.<p>

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><p>Tadaa~ Now wth less plotholes! Sorry again, dudes. *Shame Cupbaoards* Hope you emjoyed it anyhows.<p> 


	6. Epilogue

Okay, this really _is_ the last bit of this story.

Dedicated to KedekaiOkami, an awesome reviewer who requested a bit of a meatier ending. Here you go, much love :)

And I promise this is the last time I'll use the blocky formatting that's a real b*tch to read, I'm doing it more for the sake of continuity of formatting in the chapters for this story than anything else now. It would really tick me off if I changed the formatting for the last freakin' chapter. But all new fics I submit will be in a better format, okay?

All characters (s) Kazuki Takahashi

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><p><strong>Epilogue<strong>

The sun was almost blinding in Yami's eyes as he leaned against the car door, looking across the road to the heavy-security door and wire-topped fences. He smothered the nervous butterflies in his stomach and checked his reflection again, making sure his freshly-dyed hair was spiked the right way, and his clothes were tight and settled. He had been waiting for this day for a long time, and he wanted to look right.  
>It made him smile; he had taken almost as much care with his appearance more than five years ago, preparing to meet in real life the man he was waiting to collect now.<br>Marik was getting out today.

The weeks immediately following Marik's arrest had been hellish for Yami. He had been vulnerable and his protector, who had looked after him so tenderly in the year after his rape at the hands – and other assorted limbs – of That Man, Bakura Shhadenfroid, was now gone. He hadn't been able to cope for quite a while, despite the efforts of his friends.  
>Marik's trial had been even worse.<br>He had been forced to relive the nights of both rapes in front of a room of strangers, and though his friends were there too, and Marik of course, he had felt judgement from every person in the room at every word he had said. He had been nervous, knowing that if he messed up he could lengthen Marik's sentence quote by accident. There was no question he was going to prison, and the trial was mainly to determine for what offence – murder or manslaughter. Murder could carry a life sentence. Manslaughter could, in the right circumstances, be for as relatively little as a decade, or shorter.  
>The CSIs had been there too, to give their testimony and their appraisals of both his and Marik's characters. At one point the question of which one of them had shot That Man had arisen, due to the fact the evidence had been inconclusive and Yami couldn't remember at this point who had done it, and Marik could easily have been covering for his boyfriend. But Marik's confession and precise details of how he had shot Bakura Shhadenfroid had tipped the scales of Justice.<br>The jury had elected, after much debate, to convict Marik of manslaughter with high provocation. He had been sentenced to spend seven years in prison due to a lack of premeditation and the fact he had been protecting a loved one, who had been systematically abused by the deceased.  
>Marik had taken the news stoically, though Yami saw him swallow nervously. Seven years was a long time to be locked away, if not nearly as long as for life. He had been allowed to hug Yami under the strict supervision of the attending police and with their hands in full view, so Yami couldn't pass Marik anything. Not that he was going to, he just wanted to be held.<br>"Don't visit me," Marik had said softly, holding him tight. "I don't want you to have to set foot in there."  
>"I'll write, then," Yami had whispered back in a heartbroken voice, tears running down his cheeks and dampening Marik's shirt.<br>"Every week?"  
>"Of course," Yami had replied, and would have said more, but the policeman nearest coughed meaningfully and they stood back from each other. Yami had wiped his eyes with his sleeve and tried to smile. Their eyes were locked on each other, Marik's request meaning that this would be the last time they saw each other for a long time.<br>"Stay strong," Marik had said, hitching a smile on his face as his own eyes threatened to spill onto his cheeks. "You can make it through this, and I'll be back with you soon."  
>"I will," Yami had said firmly. He could have said <em>I will try<em> or _I'll do my best_, but Yami knew that wouldn't be good enough. Marik had done so much for him, cared for him when he had sunk to the very lowest and almost lost the will to keep going. Without Marik, he wouldn't be here now. So he was going to be strong if it took everything he had. If being strong was the only way Yami could try to repay the enormous debt he owed Marik, he would repay it in full and then some.  
>Marik had mouthed three simple words to him, eyes shining. There had been no need to say them aloud, because Yami heard them in his very soul. Fresh tears had trickled down his cheeks as he had returned them.<p>

It was that night, as he lay alone in Marik's bed – his room in the house he shared with his friends was ruined and still hadn't been cleared of all the CSI's equipment – that he had dreamed of the night of That Man's death. He dreamed that he had shot him, and that Marik was innocent. It was the first time he could clearly recall that night since it had happened. It was so vivid he took it for memory and he had lain there alone in the dark, guilt washing over him as he considered Marik was going to prison – was there already – for no reason.  
>But when he slept again, he dreamt of the events Marik had described, of his guilt and Yami's innocence. It had been just as vivid as his first dream.<br>He had curled onto his side. He didn't know what to think anymore. Was Marik innocent, or had he been telling the truth when he confessed? Only Marik knew the truth of what had happened, and Yami knew that if he confronted Marik with his dream-memory, Marik would still stick to his story that Yami was innocent.

True to his word, Yami wrote to Marik every week; it was the high point of both their weeks when the letter or reply came. Without ever discussing it, they hoarded the letters, keeping them safe and rereading them when they missed each other. Yami knew Marik was living through his letters so he tried to make them as interesting and detailed as possible. They were difficult to write, however. He couldn't say the things he really wanted to say, things like _I love you_ and _I miss you so much it hurts _and _I want you here with me tonight_, because of course Marik's mail was not private. Although Marik never said a thing about the harshness of prison life, Yami picked up on the little hints that it was dangerous there for him, as a gay man, and if the other inmates found out then his life would be even less pleasant there.  
>So their letters seemed cold when they wrote them, but they tried to give hints to each other how they were feeling. If Yami was missing Marik more than usual, he would write something like <em>the heating's out again so I borrowed a jumper<em>, knowing Marik would see that he meant he was upset and had needed to hold something of Marik's to comfort himself.  
>Marik's most recent letter had been his favourite so far, and he had reread it so many times the paper was soft to the touch. Marik was being released a year and a half early for good behaviour.<br>The high door was cranked open and Marik's distinctive silhouette was revealed. Yami felt all the tension leave his body in a happy whoosh and he repressed the urge to giggle at the parallels to the film, the Blues Brothers. Although he couldn't see Marik's face – the sun was in his eyes – he knew Marik was grinning from ear to ear by the bounce to his quick strides across the road to where Yami was waiting. He was wearing the same clothes as the day of his trial, a smart suit that didn't flatter him nearly as well as his usual punk gear. He still looked amazing, though.  
>He stopped an awkward foot from Yami, grinning for sure and looking him up and down. This was the first time they had been face to face since Marik's conviction, and neither was really sure what to do.<br>"Screw it," Yami muttered and kissed Marik hard on the mouth, cupping his face. Marik groaned deep in his throat and his arms came tight around Yami's waist, pulling him up and onto his toes, closer and closer. Their kiss was almost viciously passionate but neither cared about the lack of gentleness.  
>"Hello," Marik whispered when they gasped for breath, eyes over-bright and grinning like an idiot, breath warm on Yami's cheek.<br>"Hello," Yami laughed, and kissed him again, more gently this time. Marik kissed him back tenderly, a wealth of all those things they hadn't been able to say plainly in their letters passing between them wordlessly with that kiss.  
>Marik leaned his forehead against Yami's and smiled softly. "I imagined getting out so many times, but the reality is so much better." So saying, he tightened his arms around Yami's waist.<br>Yami sighed happily and ran his hands through Marik's hair, relishing the feel of it. "I missed you. It's been so long."  
>The Blues Brothers moment came back to Yami and he bit his knuckle to stop himself from laughing hysterically.<br>"What is it?" Marik smiled, kissing Yami's raised hand lovingly.  
>"I just thought," Yami sniggered, "If Elwood had welcomed Jake back like this, there was no way it would have been shown in cinemas."<br>Marik raised an eyebrow and smirked. "At least you're not picking me up in an old police car. So this is it then?"  
>"Yup, I've been licensed for two months now," Yami said proudly, looking at his second-hand car. He didn't mind that it was a bit battered. It ran well, and it was his.<br>Marik looked back at the high, fenced and wire-topped walls that had contained his world for the past few years and a hard look set on his features.  
>"Could we get away from here, please?" He said quietly, trying to ignore the fact that the guards who had been patrolling the perimeter had witnessed Marik's warm reception and weren't trying to disguise the fact that they were openly staring at them. Yami followed his gaze and gently put his arm on Marik's arm, squeezing lightly.<br>"Of course," He said quietly, and clambered into the driver side.

Yami drove them back into Domino, along the wide empty roads surrounded only by fields and populated by the occasional sheep or cows, with leafy green crops waving composedly in the wind. The farmers in the fields paid them no heed, of course, as they drove by them. Marik sat quietly for quite some time, staring out of the open window with wide eyes and letting his hair blow wild and unkempt in the wind.  
>Yami let him keep his silence, letting him take in the sights on the outside. He had been locked away within the same walls for many long years, had seen only the sights he could glimpse from his tiny cell window or the views of the sky from the prison yard. Yami had no illusions as to the brutality of prison life, and when they stopped at a red light he reached over to put his hand on Marik's for a few seconds, reminding his long-awaited lover that he was there for him, at last, they were together, and Marik could talk when he needed. Marik smiled at him in thanks.<br>They had spent so long, after Yami's rape, learning to read each other's body language, there was no need for words and only the barest of glances and touches to convey the message required. They were a little rusty after so long apart, and of course Marik had picked up a few new tells from his long time away, but even though Marik's time in prison outweighed the time they had known each other outside, that connection between them was strong. They could talk without opening their mouths.  
>As they got nearer to the suburbs of Domino, out of the wilderness, Marik collected himself and whizzed the window back up.<br>"Where are we going?" He asked quietly.  
>"Back to Otogi's place, unless you want to go somewhere else first? What would you like to do, Marik?" Yami replied.<br>Marik appeared to consider it for a few minutes then gave a tiny smile. "Let's go eat. Something fast food-ish."  
>"Sure thing," Yami laughed, and pulled into the food-chain he remembered Marik had liked.<br>They ate outside in the sunshine, quiet company while Marik enjoyed his first meal on the outside. Marik's eyes seemed tighter, tenser and more restless, than Yami remembered, and he wondered what had happened in that prison to make him look so unconsciously tense. He promised himself that he would do his utmost to get that wary look out of his erstwhile-lover's eyes; Marik had stood by him in that year of darkness and depression, and he more than owed it to Marik. He wanted to help him, repay him.  
>When they had finished eating, the awkward question of housing came up. Marik had given Yami his blessing to go on living in his apartment with Otogi even after the house he had shared with his university-friends had been cleared up by the police. Yami hadn't needed to say that his room there held too many bad memories, and he wanted to start afresh. Otogi had been more than fine with Yami living there in Marik's room, looking after their incarcerated friend's belongings; Yami and Otogi had become good friends as flatmates.<br>But now Marik was out… they hadn't discussed it in the letters they had sent since Marik had told Yami he was getting out, knowing that it needed to be talked about face to face.  
>"So, how are your friends doing these days?" Marik said awkwardly, trying to get the ball rolling. "Tristan, Joey, Seto, Téa, that lot. Are they all doing well? You didn't really mention them in your letters."<br>"Yeah, they've all graduated as well. Tristan's working at a car garage, Joey's going into further training to be a sports coach. Seto, naturally, is running his family's business. Téa's signed up with a professional dance company on the other side of Domino. We all keep in touch."  
>"You didn't really mention yourself either," Marik said, smiling hesitantly. "You told me that you graduated but not really anything else. What are you doing these days?"<br>"I'm working at the museum in the Egyptian Artefacts section," Yami said, excitement making his face light up with happiness. Just seeing him so happy made a little bit of tension he hadn't realised was there lift from his mind and body, making it easier to smile and listen to Yami's tales of his duties caring for the artefacts in storage and maintaining the exhibit for the public, and how he was training to do guided tours around the exhibit as well. He seemed content in his place in the world.  
>Marik smiled a little wider and listened happily, the normality of Yami's accounts soothing his somewhat-disorientated mind. Yami had certainly changed in the years they had been apart, but Marik rather thought it was for the better. He wasn't nervous like he had been in that dark year, and he seemed almost carefree. He didn't worry about dressing unobtrusively, speaking just a little too loud, gesturing or smiling too much. He sat relaxed and didn't scan the surrounding area just in case That Man had found him. He seemed at peace, and happy. Like the Yami Marik had known early on in their relationship, but more confident and sure of himself.<br>Hesitantly, Marik took Yami's hand on the top of the table. Yami smiled and squeezed his fingers, a slight blush on his cheeks. They had been apart a long time, and neither was really sure how intimate they should be with each other, despite Yami's encouraging demeanour. Also, Marik had just spent a considerable amount of time in a place where to show any sort of weakness – as the other inmates saw it – was to court danger and very grave injury. He was finding it difficult to readjust to the real world again after so long cut off from it.  
>Yami smiled at him and slowly brought Marik's hand to his lips, softly kissing the knuckles with his eyes never leaving Marik's face, lit with a soft intensity that made Marik's smile easier to wear and sit better on his face. With that simple gesture Yami told Marik that he would give him all the time he needed and would understand the difficulties Marik was going through.<br>"So, you've all moved out of the house then?" Marik said after a moment, just to clear the air.  
>Yami nodded, and lifted his eyebrows, inviting the next question with just a hint of nervousness.<br>Marik took a deep breath and smiled fully, squeezing Yami's hand with unsure fingers unused to gentleness. "Is there enough room for both of us in my old room?"  
>The question didn't need to be asked – <em>are we moved in together?<em> – as Yami heard it anyway, and laughed joyfully.  
>"Of course there is," he beamed. "And all your stuff is untouched, I haven't thrown out a thing. Well, except food. I didn't think you'd appreciate a welcome-home present of years-old food in your fridge."<br>"You thought right," Marik grinned. "That would have been a terrible let-down after the welcome you've given me."

For the rest of the day they went around Domino so Marik could re-acquaint himself with it, and his place within it. Otogi met up with them later and assured Marik his place at the tattoo parlour was open if he wanted to keep working there; Marik had replied that he might have to take a refresher course or two before working again, but he would like that very much. They didn't run into any of Yami's old friends, though they did receive a few congratulatory text messages.  
>Yami was calm and assured throughout the day, helping Marik when his rusty social skills faltered. Marik was astonished at the change in Yami; the last time they had seen each other had been the day of the trial, and Yami had been broken and damaged almost beyond repair then. Now… now, he seemed reformed and stronger, happier, than before. He gladly took the role of protector that had belonged to Marik for so long after That Night and Marik felt himself growing more and more at ease with every little effort Yami made to help him.<br>Neither mentioned That Night or the night of That Man's death; it was the past. It was a punitive shame that Marik had spent years in prison for it, whether he had committed the crime or taken the fall for it, but he was out now. They had a mutual unspoken bond that it was time to look ahead to their future and not to the dark events of the past. It was time to move on.  
>They ate dinner at the restaurant where they had met for the first time, so long ago now it was. They sat at the same table and ate the same food, but they were different men from back then. Harder and wiser, maybe, but also happier. That meal was their final farewell to dwelling on the incidents of the past.<br>They meandered home to the flat above the tattoo parlour and went straight to the bedroom; Otogi had promised with a wink to be gone for the night to give them more privacy than just a locked door. They sat down on the bed together, fingers intertwined and knees just touching. They talked for a long while.  
>The ugly question came first, the question that reared its ugly head and could not be avoided. "Have you been with anyone since I was put away?" <em>Have you been true?<br>_Yami had lightly stroked his hand over Marik's cheek in the low light, remembering the first time they had come into this room together. He looked Marik right in the eyes and slowly smiled. He couldn't have lied if he had tried.  
>"No. No one else, Marik."<br>Overwhelmed for a moment, Marik pulled Yami into a tight hug, hiding his face in Yami's neck. Yami stroked his hair, holding him just as tightly.  
>Then Marik told Yami everything.<br>He told him about the hardships in adjusting to prison life, in learning the hard way when to pick his fights and with whom he could get away with a straight fight, and who would hold a bitter grudge. He told Yami of the pain and humiliation he had suffered in trying to make himself as unthreatening as possible to the more hard-bitten criminals. He mumbled about the abuse he had endured, and Yami held him tighter and kissed away the few tears that escaped Marik's eyes. He told Yami of how he had chafed at the slow passage of time and how much he had missed his lover.  
>They talked for hours and never noticed the time. They had the rest of their lives together; there was no need to rush.<br>And Marik felt the broken bits of himself, that had been sundered in his long time behind bars, slowly start to be put back together under Yami's gentle care.  
>His Yami, the confident and lively Yami he had been dreaming of and thinking he might have lost for ever from That Man's treatment.<br>"You're so much stronger than when were last together," Marik said at one point, cupping Yami's face.  
>Yami smiled. "I took your words to heart, that's all. I figured… he's gone. So why should I live in fear of a ghost? Especially when I wanted to be strong for you. I didn't want you to get out of that place and need to be my protector again. I wanted to mend on my own, and I've done that. I missed you terribly, though. You know that I'm forever grateful to you."<br>Marik gave him a serious look which Yami returned just as gravely, eyebrows lifted in silent enquiry. _Was it me who killed him?  
><em>"You still can't remember?"  
>"I don't know," Yami said sombrely. "My memories of that night are so chaotic, I can't tell what was real and what I might have conjured to comfort myself." His eyebrows lifted another half inch.<br>"You don't need to be grateful," Marik said quietly, placing a tender kiss on Yami's forehead. Yami closed his eyes briefly, trying to accept that. He knew what Marik meant. Yami had killed Bakura Shhadenfroid, and Marik had spent years in prison paying for a crime he hadn't committed.  
>"I can never repay you," Yami whispered, blinking away anguished tears. All Marik had suffered, for no reason.<br>"I don't want you to," Marik whispered back. "I went through all that for you, to keep you safe from those things. It's done now. No regrets."  
>"No regrets," Yami whispered, and leaned in to kiss him deeply. Marik pulled away uneasily after a few moments, making Yami frown in concern.<br>"There's just one thing I want to know first," Marik said. His hands moved down to Yami's and slowly pulled his sleeves up to expose his inner wrists.  
>The skin was smooth, marred only by old scars long healed into thin white lines. He hadn't been cutting, not for quite some time.<br>Yami gave him a wobbly smile. "I always knew you hated it when I – when I did that – around you. And I didn't want you to be disappointed when you got out."  
>Marik gently kissed the pale skin, a tear or two dropping to splash on Yami's hands. "I could never be disappointed," he whispered, voice cracking slightly.<br>Yami's gasp of breath was almost hidden as Marik pressed their lips together, arms winding tight around Yami and pulling him down onto the bed.  
>They tried to go carefully, being considerate of each other. Yami hadn't been with anyone since Marik's arrest, and Marik wasn't used to this being gentle, not after his time in prison. He needed a bit of coaching to remember what they used to enjoy.<br>It didn't go all well, for this wasn't some magical lovemaking that healed over all wounds in a sparkling of rainbows and lovehearts. They were only human. It had been a long time for both of them, and their desires were out of tune. Yami wanted to go slow and steady to get them both back into the swing of it, and Marik wanted to get the first time over with, his nervousness and shaken self-belief affecting him considerably. His technique was somewhat less than it had once been, fumbling and clumsy, even painful.  
>"I'm sorry," Marik whispered, holding Yami close and not trying to stop the tears that fell from his anxious eyes. "I'm so, so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you…"<br>"It's alright," Yami said through gritted teeth, clinging tightly. "It doesn't hurt too much. We never said this would be perfect, now did we?"  
>Marik's confidence was knocked further and his hands trembled as he tried to comfort Yami, shame wracking through him at his failure their first time together in years, despite Yami's kind assurances that he didn't blame Marik, that it wasn't his fault.<br>Yami sat up on his elbows a little later and smoothed his hand over Marik's forehead an cheek, wiping away his tears. He crooned loving words of forgiveness and faith that it would be better the next time, and didn't he want to try again?  
>It took a long while, but their bodies moved together again, in a steady rhythm that carried them both along. Marik really tried, guided by Yami's body and his small signals of stop or go; a squeeze of his hand, and laugh, a sudden tensing or a teasing touch. They finished breathless and tangled together, smiling at each other.<br>That time, it had been better. They were both healing; slowly, almost imperceptibly, but their ordeals were over and they had each other to support them if they faltered. The dawn light greeted them again as lovers once more, reunited.  
>Quiet words of affection and trust made the air mellow around them, the sheets rustling softly in the milky light as they moved to lie close together, skin to skin. Their scars lay bold on their skin, from difference ordeals but nonetheless connected by cause and effect, and they were unashamed.<br>This was who they were, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

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><p>There we go~ Hope y'all enjoyed that little bonus, and again I promise that's the very last time I'll use the blocky formatting. See you guys in a bizzle~ :)<p> 


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